


The Good Girls

by lilbluednacer



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Angst, Betty Cooper Needs a Hug, Eating Disorders, Everyone has daddy issues, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Mild Sexual Content, Panic Attacks, Protective Archie Andrews, Self-Harm, Slow Burn Bughead, Underage Drinking, Veronica is a well-meaning troublemaker, except for Archie because Fred Andrews is basically a saint, family trauma, supportive Jughead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:42:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 67,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22092001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbluednacer/pseuds/lilbluednacer
Summary: Betty Cooper has worked out how to survive her senior year at Riverdale Prep - she’s going to keep her grades up and her head down, she’s going to put last summer behind her, and she’s going to prove that she’s more than the daughter of a killer.But when new girl Veronica Lodge shows up, all of Betty’s careful planning turns to chaos.
Relationships: Archie Andrews & Betty Cooper, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper & Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 191
Kudos: 332





	1. Wheel of Fortune

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains content that may be triggering (self-harm, eating disorders and some other heavy topics) so please take a second to check out the tags before reading! If you’re into an angsty slow burn then you are definitely in the right place.

The new girl is beautiful.

It’s the first thought Betty has when she sees Veronica Lodge gracefully exit the backseat of a Lincoln Town car and push big black sunglasses up into her sleek dark hair. Her skin is bronzed and glowing, her lips are painted a vibrant red and she’s wearing an outfit Betty could never dream of pulling off: a black cape and black leather riding boots, a designer handbag looped casually around a slim tanned wrist, a tasteful pearl necklace.

Betty steps forward where she’s been waiting on the sidewalk in front of the ivy covered walls outside the Riverdale Prep campus, a big shiny smile on her face. “Veronica, hi! I’m Betty.”

Veronica looks her up and down and Betty tries not to feel self conscious as the other girl takes in her ponytail, her pink cable knit sweater, the faded skinny jeans she liberated from Polly’s closet over the summer. Veronica is a transfer, Betty only found out about her two days ago and all she knows is Veronica’s family must either be incredibly wealthy or well connected or both to get their daughter into Riverdale Prep right before the first semester of senior year. 

And of course, because Betty was the only girl in their year without a roommate, Veronica got assigned to her. They had a long awkward conversation over text yesterday, Veronica inquiring what she should bring for their room and Betty sending back photos and measurements, but this is their first time meeting face to face.

Veronica must decide that Betty isn’t totally hopeless because her face breaks into a smile. “Well hello, roomie. Are you my greeting committee?”

Relief washes over Betty in a soft warm wave. “That’s me. Welcome to Riverdale Prep.”

“Thank you.” Veronica tilts her head towards the front gates. “Shall we?”

Betty nods and Veronica gestures loosely at the older man who’s gotten out of the car, dressed in a crisp suit. A grandparent, maybe? He nods to Veronica and pops the trunk to get out a few monogrammed leather duffel bags, a large suitcase, and a handful of shopping bags.

“Thank you, Smithers,” Veronica calls out, and looks expectantly at Betty.

Betty leads Veronica and her apparent chauffeur slash butler to the wrought iron gate set in the center of the front wall and shows Veronica where she swipes her student ID to unlock it.

“In the morning you can get your ID made in the office but for now I’m your key,” she tells Veronica, who smiles and loops her arm through Betty’s, and Betty tries not to melt at the first act of physical affection anyone has shown her in months.

“Better not lose you then,” Veronica says playfully.

The gate sweeps open and they step onto the tree lined path that leads to the main part of campus. “So up there is the main building.” Betty points out the large three story brick building looming ahead. “That’s got the main office, the college admissions center, guidance counselor’s office, basically anything administrative related.”

Veronica nods as she glances around, looking up at the canopy of leaves formed by the large trees lining the cobblestone path, late afternoon sunshine flashing against that shiny hair. When they get to the main building the path splits and Betty leads her charge to the right to follow the path around in the direction of the dormitories. She points out the buildings they pass along the way: the infirmary, the library, the science center, the main academic buildings, everything done in endless ivy covered brick lest anyone forget they’re at a private school. The grass is lush and green, huge pots of hydrangeas and mums frame the entrances to all the academic buildings for elegant splashes of color, and the lawn is dotted with little benches and tables for students to study outside when the weather is nice.

The girl’s dormitory is on the south side of campus directly past the boy’s dormitory, the two buildings separated by a courtyard that features towering oak trees, a few tables with chess sets, and purple New England asters lining the cobblestone path. The dining hall is down to their right past the courtyard, it makes up the third side of a square opposite the picturesque gazebo the Blossom family paid to have built in Jason’s memory. Betty takes Veronica through the courtyard, pointing out the dining hall to her as she uses her ID to unlock the front door to their dorm. 

“Cute,” Veronica says unenthusiastically when they go inside, taking in the foyer, the gleaming mahogany staircase to their right, the plush burgundy carpeting.

“Senior girls are on the second floor,” Betty tells her, and climbs the stairs with Veronica and Smithers trailing behind her.

Move-in day was officially yesterday, everyone else in their dorm is at the pre-dinner assembly Principle Weatherby holds in the auditorium of the performing arts center at the beginning of every year. Betty got special permission to miss it so she could greet Veronica, who absolutely couldn’t be taken to school before today due to some mysterious family situation. If she’s being honest with herself Betty might have tried skipping it anyway, the idea of having to sit there in front of the entire student body like she’s the same girl she was last year is so overwhelming it makes her lightheaded.

They reach the second floor landing and both girls wait for Smithers to catch up to them as Veronica looks around curiously, leaning in to read Cheryl and Toni’s names drawn in big bubble letters on the whiteboard hanging from their door.

“So half the girls are down on the right but we’re all the way down on the left at the end; this is Cheryl and Toni’s room,” Betty points out as they start to walk down the hall. “Across from them are Melody, Valerie and Josie, they have the only triple this year. That’s Ginger and Tina’s room next to them, and Joan and Donna are across the hall, they transformed from Stonewall Prep last year.”

They stop so Betty can show Veronica the alcove where the vintage landline phone sits on a table underneath framed portraits of older graduated classes, the visitors bathroom, the senior girls’ common room. “It’s open hours from ten to ten, boys are allowed until six on the weekends but you have to leave the door open.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow. “And who enforces that rule?”

“Oh, we have a dorm mom, Laurie. She’s new this year actually but I met her yesterday, she’s pretty cool.”

Veronica looks like she thinks having a dorm mom is very _not_ cool but doesn’t say anything about it, so Betty points out the vending machines and the tv and decides to move on.

“So Ethel and Midge are there,” she says, pointing to the last room before the set of back stairs that lead outside to the garden. “And then we’re here at the end.”

Betty slips her room key out of the back pocket of her jeans and unlocks the door, Veronica rushing in after her to take in her new living space: to their right are two double sized beds with their headboards against the wall, a dresser between them underneath a window that faces the back garden. Two matching desks are pushed against the foot of each bed, their shared closet runs along the opposite wall and the door to their bathroom is straight across the room past Betty’s desk.

Veronica _snaps her fingers_ and all of her bags and luggage get deposited on the floor in front of the unmade bed on the side of the room closest to the door. “Thank you, Smithers,” she says, and kisses his cheek.

“Best of luck to you, Miss Lodge,” he says kindly. He waves to Betty and leaves their room, gently shutting the door behind him.

Veronica flops down onto her new bed and lets out a heavy sigh. “I told my mom I could handle moving in on my own, but she insisted Smithers take me.” She rolls her eyes, like, _moms, right?_

Betty lets out a nervous laugh and curls her fingers in towards her palms. Her mother moved her in yesterday at exactly 2pm, right when the doors opened, did Betty’s entire side of the room while Betty nervously followed her around and dutifully hung up clothes, opened boxes, unwrapped bubble wrap from the framed photos that now stand on her desk: her and Polly in matching Easter dresses back when they were in elementary school, her and Archie standing together on the Cooper’s front steps the morning of their first day of sixth grade with proud, excited smiles on their little faces, skinny arms slung around each other.

“If you don’t want that side we can switch,” Betty offers tentatively. “If you’d rather be closer to the bathroom or…”

“I don’t care.” Veronica slips out of her cape, revealing a beautiful plum colored shift dress, and gives Betty a curious look. “I’ve never lived with a roommate before.”

Betty sits down at her desk chair and reaches up to tighten her ponytail. “It can be a little weird at first but you get used to it.”

Veronica stretches over the side of her bed to reach a shopping bag and pulls out a plastic wrapped bedding-in-a-bag set, puts it between her legs and works the zipper open. “Anything important I should know about you?”

Betty’s fingers go numb, a precursor to the panic attacks she gets now, ever since she went to LA, and she digs her nails into her palms to get some feeling back. “Like what?”

Veronica has to use both hands to yank a pale blue floral comforter out of the bag. “I don’t know. Do you snore? Have a masterbation addiction?”

“No!” Betty’s cheeks flush.

“I’m just teasing,” Veronica giggles, shaking out her comforter. “But, are there any boys I should know about? Do I need to sleep with headphones? Leave the window open for you to sneak in after midnight escapades?”

Betty chokes back laughter. “No, definitely not. But the girls leave a scrunchie over the doorknob if they want to be alone with someone.”

Veronica gives her a sly grin. “Good to know.”

Veronica dumps her new cream colored sheets over her comforter and abandons her bedding entirely in favor of unpacking her clothes. Betty watches from her desk as Veronica hangs up little black dresses, jewel toned cashmere sweaters, silk blouses, jackets with fur collars, barely leaving any space to hang up her dress code regulation-friendly plaid skirts, plain white button downs, black and navy cardigans, and a blazer with the tag still on it. 

“I can help,” Betty offers.

“Oh it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Veronica glances back at her bed but instead of making it she unzips her suitcase and starts unloading pairs of shoes.

“I really don’t mind,” Betty says. “I can do your bed if you want to finish the closet.”

Relief flashes across Veronica’s face before she presses her lips together and shrugs, like she couldn’t care less. “Only if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” Betty says, and doesn’t voice her suspicion that rich girl Veronica Lodge has never had to make a bed before.

“Thanks.” Veronica pulls out patent leather booties, burgundy high heeled Mary Janes, pristine Adidas sneakers that look like they’ve never been worn. “I’m going to have to do some serious spatial reconfiguring to get these all in there.”

Betty looks at her side of the closet, where her shoes are neatly lined up on the floor: the black oxfords she wears during the day with her uniform, her old Keds, beat up running shoes, the white tennis shoes from her Vixen days her mother insisted she bring “just in case”. A pair of tall navy rain boots with red trim. One pair of black strappy heels for school formals. Simple, streamlined, everything she needs and plenty of space left over.

“You can put them on my side if you need to,” she tells Veronica, and sits on the edge of the other girl’s bed to shake out the fitted sheet.

Veronica narrows her eyes at Betty’s side of the closet. “Minimalism, I like it.”

Betty stares down at the new beige suede ankle boots she’s currently wearing. Her old ankle boots got ruined That Night, her mother didn’t even bother trying to get all the dirt out before she threw them away. Betty wasn’t angry about it, she threw away the outfit she was wearing That Night too, dumped her dirt stained clothes right in the bathroom trash can as soon as she got home. For once she was in agreement with her mom, she didn’t want to see any of it again anyway.

Betty surreptitiously does a hand check before she starts making Veronica’s bed to make sure she doesn’t accidentally drip blood on the new sheets but when she looks down at them she just sees skin, white marks where she was digging her nails around the crescent moon scars that line both palms.

She makes Veronica’s bed while Veronica finishes unpacking all her clothes. Betty shows her the bathroom, the drawer she left empty for her underneath the sink, the rack where she can hang her towel. Veronica stashes her flatiron and blow dryer in her drawer, puts a jar of Le Mer moisturizer and Laura Mercier primer in the cabinet above the sink next to Betty’s sunscreen and lip balm, lines up cosmetic bags and hair clips on the shelf above the towel rack. 

Veronica’s phone dings and Betty follows her back to their room where Veronica’s left her phone on her desk; she picks it up and frowns before tapping something out with her thumbs. “We have wifi, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Betty helps Veronica get her phone and laptop hooked up to the school’s network and checks the clock on the dresser. “We should go, dinner’s about to start.”

Veronica wrinkles her nose. “It’s barely five-thirty.”

“We do dinner a little earlier on the weekends. Here, the dining hall schedule is in there with everything else you need to know.” Betty gets the folder she prepared for Veronica this morning out of her desk drawer and passes it to her. “Campus map, student handbook, weekly school schedule, info on extracurriculars, and you’ll get your class schedule in the morning from the office. Oh hey, and I put your room key in your desk drawer. That’ll get you into our room but you still need your ID to get into the dorm.”

Veronica pulls out a set of keys from her handbag and slips the new key onto the ring. “Thanks. So, what’s the dress code for Sunday dinner?”

“Casual, we only have to wear our uniform during the school week.”

“Perfect,” Veronica says, and puts her cape back on. “I’m ready then.”

Betty presses her lips together and gives Veronica a tight smile, slips her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and checks that she has her ID so they can get back into the dorm later. She takes Veronica out the back way, down the stairs that lead to the garden, making sure the door shuts all the way behind them.

“It locks from the inside, it’s not fitted to swipe IDs so you can only go out, not in,” she explains to Veronica.

The other girl nods sagely. “To make it harder to sneak in late, I suppose.”

“Some girls prop it open during smoke breaks, just don’t get caught or you’ll get written up.”

Betty leads Veronica left through the little maze of rose bushes planted along the path and under the arch of towering trees that lead to the dining hall. Other students are walking in from the direction of the performing arts center and Betty takes a deep breath as she and Veronica go inside. She shows Veronica the coffee bar to their left, closed until tomorrow morning, and then they walk through the front hallway into the dining hall. It’s simple but heavy feeling, lots of dark gleaming wooden tables and chairs upholstered in dark blue, the food stations lined up against the right side of the room, the back wall made up of huge glass windows that face the woods.

“Not bad.” Veronica does a small spin. “Very rustic chic.”

“Come on, the food’s pretty decent.” Betty leads Veronica over to the beginning of the line for dinner.

They grab trays and Betty distracts herself by narrating everything like she’s a food critic; she points out the salad bar, the pasta station, the cut fruit, the organic roasted chicken and freshly made burgers, the ever present cereal selection. Betty makes herself a big salad and pretends not to carefully observe everything Veronica puts on her own tray (a side salad and a bowl of pesto penne) and cruises past the desert station and the frozen yogurt machine over to the drinks, where both of them fill up cups of Diet Coke and stack them on their trays.

Betty’s mentally trying to figure out where the hell they're going to sit when Cheryl Blossom spots her from where she’s drizzling marinara sauce sauce on her pasta, she shoves her food into the hands of another Vixen and stalks towards Betty and Veronica.

“Oh no,” Betty murmurs. 

“Veronica Lodge!” Cheryl calls out. “It is Veronica, right?”

She’s still dressed in mourning a year after Jason’s death: black turtleneck, black miniskirt, red and gold enamel spider pinned to her chest, long red curls arranged artfully over one shoulder. To Betty’s surprise Veronica steps back so she’s slightly behind Betty and holds her tray defensively in front of herself.

“Can I help you?” Veronica uses a haughty tone of voice Betty hasn’t heard from her before.

Cheryl’s smile doesn’t slip for a second as she rests one hand on her chest. “Cheryl Blossom. I just wanted to introduce myself to the new girl in school and issue a warm welcome on behalf of all the students here at Riverdale Prep.”

“Pleasure,” Veronica says stiffly.

Cheryl bats her eyelashes. “Have you thought about extracurriculars? The Vixens have room for a few girls this year, you should think about trying out. You have a great look.”

“Vixens?” Veronica asks.

“Cheerleading,” Betty whispers to her.

“Oh!” Veronica shoots Betty a hopeful smile. “I’ll try out if you will, Betty. Cheryl, you know  
Betty, right?”

“Unfortunately, we share genetic material.” Cheryl gives Betty a withering look. “My cousin was on the Vixens last year. It didn't work out.” Her eyes rove over Betty’s tray. “For many reasons.”

Betty stares down at her salad and wishes she could sink right through the floor and disappear.

“Sorry,” Veronica says cheerfully. “But if the Vixens aren’t good enough for my girl Betty then they aren’t good enough for me either.”

Cheryl and Betty both gape at her.

“Excuse me?” Cheryl says, her voice razor sharp.

“You heard me,” Veronica says. “I’m not interested in joining your little girl gang.”

Cheryl gives Betty a dirty look, like she’s somehow responsible for this. “I see. Well then, best of luck to you, Veronica. You’ll need it.”

Veronica seems unconcerned. “I guess we’ll see about that.”

Cheryl looks her up and down. “I suppose so.” 

Cheryl spins on her black stiletto heel and stomps back to her minions.

“Wow,” Veronica murmurs. “She came on a little strong, no?”

Betty gives Veronica an astonished look. “Why did you do that?”

“What?” Veronica asks nonchalantly.

“Why would you defend me like that?” Betty asks her. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know girls like her.” Veronica glowers in Cheryl’s direction. “She reminds me of my old friends in New York.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not a good thing,” Veronica says darkly. “Besides, we’re roommates. We have to have each other’s backs, right?”

“Yeah,” Betty agrees, stunned at the declaration of loyalty. “Right, totally.”

“Good! So.” Veronica tosses her hair out of her eyes and looks at Betty expectantly. “Where do we sit?”

Betty’s stomach drops. This is the moment she’s been waiting for, for Veronica to realize she’s about to hitch herself to the social pariah of the senior class, the good girl who fell from grace.

“Betty!” Archie Andrews is pushing past Reggie Mantle and Chuck Clayton to get to her, football tee shirt straining against broad shoulders, holding his tray one handed so he can flag her down with his free hand.

She saw him briefly yesterday during move-in along with his dad and Jughead but Betty only had time to wave tentatively at them from across the courtyard before her mother took her by the wrist and dragged her inside. It was the first time she’d seen him since That Night, they talked over the summer a few times while she was gone but it wasn't the same, everything between them painful and stilted.

“Hey,” he says breathlessly when he catches up to her and Veronica. “Come on, Kevin’s saving us seats.”

Archie tilts his head towards the back of the dining hall and when Betty cranes her neck she sees Kevin sitting at a small round table in the back corner by the windows. She’s so relieved that if Veronica wasn’t here she thinks she might collapse into Archie and sob, but she and Archie haven’t touched each other since That Night and Betty is determined not to cry in front of anyone in school this year.

So she smiles at Archie and says, “Hey Arch, this is my new roommate, Veronica Lodge. Veronica, this is Archie Andrews. My best friend.”

“Hey,” Archie says warmly.

“Hey yourself,” Veronica responds. She gives Betty a sly smile, dips her finger into her pesto sauce and licks it off. “Mm. Hot.”

Archie laughs. “Veronica, you sitting with us?”

“Oh, was that not obvious enough?” Veronica deadpans.

Betty watches Archie watch Veronica - his eyes traveling over her body hidden under her elegant cape as his lips curve up in a smile. She feels it right in the center of her chest, Archie and what’s left of his love for her drifting away forever, and she clutches her tray so hard her knuckles turn white.

“Um, Archie?” Betty prompts gently, when neither he nor Veronica break their staring contest.

“Right, come on.” Archie leads the way and Betty and Veronica follow him across the dining hall to where Kevin is holding down their new table. 

Betty walks around the circular table and sits in the chair to Kevin’s right, gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and sets her tray down. “Hey Kev.”

Kevin’s eyes go wide as he slings one arm around her shoulders to squeeze her to his side. “Betty Cooper, where have you been?”

“LA,” she reminds him.

“Really.” Veronica sinks down in the open chair to Betty’s right, a curious expression on her face. “Do tell.”

Betty ducks her head a little, embarrassed at the attention, and catches Archie looking at her as he sits down across from her. “It’s not a big deal, I did an internship at a literary magazine over the summer.”

“Not a big deal?” Veronica cries. “Betty, that’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” Betty murmurs, blushing.

“That’s Betty,” Archie says. “She’s amazing.”

Veronica tilts her head and gives Betty a smile so dazzling it makes her dizzy. “I’m noticing.”

Jughead appears out of nowhere and plops down in the empty chair between Kevin and Archie, two burgers on his tray. “Hey guys.”

Betty stares at him in shock. Normally he sits with Toni and Fangs and Sweet Pea and the like, the misfits, the scholarship kids, the rumored children of Southside Serpents. He and Betty are friends, sure, they have Archie in common and they’ve been working on The Blue and Gold together since sophomore year, but they don’t _sit_ together.

But then she sees the way Archie shifts in his chair and stares down at his food and she thinks, _oh, okay_.

Jughead was the first person to notice that she and Archie were missing That Night, he and Fred Andrews were waiting for them at the station when Sheriff Keller brought them in. Everything changed That Night, the three of them now tied together in strange, painful ways none of them could have ever seen coming back when they were kids, when Archie and Betty were best friends destined to be childhood sweethearts, the perfect younger Cooper girl and the boy next door, Jughead the scrappy sarcastic friend from the wrong side of town with a heart of gold rounding out their group.

What she doesn’t know is if Jughead is sitting here to be Archie’s moral support, or hers.

She isn’t sure anyone, even Jughead, could have the emotional capacity to be both.

Veronica cups her chin in her palm. “And you are?”

“Hungry.” Jughead sinks his teeth into his first burger.

“Jug,” Betty sighs. “This is Veronica.”

“Betty’s new roommate,” Archie adds.

Jughead’s eyes go wide and he swallows quickly, coughs into his fist and nods at Veronica. “Jughead.”

“Bless you,” Veronica responds saucily.

Archie cracks up and Betty glares at him. “It’s a nickname,” she explains to Veronica.

Veronica gives Betty a look like, _yeah, whatever_ , and raises an eyebrow at Jughead. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

Jughead shoots Betty a look that clearly reads, _this girl, really?_ and Betty shrugs and gives him a look right back that hopefully reads something along the lines of, _please be cool_ , and Jughead winks at her and grins before taking another huge bite of his burger.

“So, Betty.” Veronica folds her hands under her chin. “Help me out. Give a lay of the land, socially speaking.” She tilts her head towards where the Vixens sit. “I take it that’s your old table.”

Betty nods and tries to ignore the sting in her chest. Cheryl let Betty know she was off the team in a Vixens group chat, two days after That Night. No warning, no explanation, but Betty didn’t need one. She knew why. She didn’t even have the energy to be hurt by the callous way it happened, she didn’t bother responding before deleting the entire text thread.

“And next to them is the football team,” Betty tells her, pointing out where Chuck and Reggie are lording over the team. “And over there are the musical theater kids, Josie and the Pussycats” -

“I’m sorry, what?” Veronica asks.

“They’re a girl group,” Betty explains.

“Good god, how many girl groups do you have here?”

“So many,” Kevin sighs. “So, so many.”

“We’re a small town, if we don’t separate into groups, how will we ever know how we stack up in the social hierarchy?” Jughead drones sarcastically.

“Band kids are over there,” Betty continues. “Academic - well this a private school, everyone’s academic, but like, the _serious_ academic kids sit there.”

“And next to them is our resident nerd table engaging in what looks like a rousing game of G&G,” Kevin says, like a game show host.

“G and what?” Veronica asks.

“If you don’t know, you don't want to know,” Jughead advises.

“It’s a game,” Betty explains. “Griffins and Gargoyles.”

Veronica shrugs. “Never heard of it.”

“Where are you from?” Jughead asks.

A dreamy expression comes over Veronica’s face. “A magical little island by the name of Manhattan.”

Jughead stares at her. “Everything about you suddenly makes complete sense to me.”

Veronica smiles. “Thank you.”

Betty bites back a laugh and points to where Toni Topaz is sitting between Sweet Pea and Fangs. “And then over there are the scholarship kids, and lets see, did I get everyone?”

“The hippy.” Jughead mutters.

“Oh, god, yeah, whatever you do stay away from Evelyn.” Betty subtly points out where Evelyn is sitting alone, that creepy blank expression on her face as she eats. “She was in a cult.”

Veronica looks horrified. “I’m sorry, she _what?_ ”

“Oh, don’t worry, it got shut down,” Kevin says. “Her father was the leader, it was a whole thing.”

“Oh my god.” Veronica leans towards Kevin. “What happened?”

“Her dad was running this whole quote unquote, ‘alternative community’ called The Farm,” Kevin whispers excitedly. “They were harvesting organs and selling them on the black market. Rumor has it he knew the Feds were onto him and he sent his precious daughter to boarding school to keep her safe and out of the way. Can you say daddy issues?”

“Damn,” Veronica murmurs. “And I thought I had a dysfunctional family.”

Betty’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she slips it out, looks down at the screen - a blocked number is calling her. She declines the call, flips her phone over and sets it face down on her tray with numb fingers.

“Everything okay Betty?” Veronica asks.

Betty smiles tightly and stabs at a spinach leaf with her fork. “Just a wrong number.”

“So. Let me see if I have this straight.” Veronica points at Archie, her eyes on his shirt. “Football.” The finger swings to Kevin. “Musical theater.” She narrows her eyes at Jughead. “I’m leaning towards academic but part of you, no offense, is just _screaming_ scholarship kid but that seems like a rude thing to bring up… oops, too late!” She gives them all a bright smile. “So my question is… why are you all sitting here?”

“We sit where Betty sits,” Archie answers solemnly. 

Veronica looks around at all of them, and then at Betty, who’s trying not to die at Archie’s proclamation. So far she’s been completely failing at her plan of keeping her head down, at this rate she might as well go right up to Cheryl and let her cousin paint a target over her chest.

“Oh,” Veronica says softly. “I see. I’m at the right table, then.”

She leans in and gently bumps Betty’s shoulder with her own, and when Betty turns to look at Veronica she’s watching Betty with a careful expression that turns into a soft, private smile, and Betty can’t help but smile back.


	2. The Moon

When they’re all finished eating dinner Kevin gets up from his chair and stands between Betty and Veronica. “Veronica, can I interest you in a tour of the campus?”

Veronica gives Betty a hesitant look. “I think Betty already gave me the official tour.”

Kevin gives her a naughty smile. “Oh, it’s not that kind of tour, darling.”

“Oh, I see.” Veronica smiles and gives Betty a hopeful look. “Betty’s my key to get back into the dorm, so it's really up to her.”

Betty glances over at Jughead and Archie, who are both staring down intensely at their trays, and her stomach drops. She looks up at Kevin, who shrugs and mouths _sorry_ to her.

“Of course you should go!” Betty gives Veronica an enthusiastic smile. “I can wait for you by the dorm.”

“Are you sure?” Veronica asks. 

“I think Betty has to work on that thing, right?” Kevin says helpfully.

“Yeah,” Betty says, shooting daggers across the table at Archie and Jughead. “Right, the thing.”

“What thing?” Veronica asks.

“I need help with my schedule!” Archie blurts out.

 _Really?_ , Betty mouths at him, and Archie gives her a panicked shrug. Next to him Jughead grabs the brim of his crown beanie and very slowly drags it over his eyes, like the awkwardness is literally unwatchable.

“Okay.” Veronica claps her hands together. “Betty, I’ll text you when we’re heading back?”

“Okay,” Betty agrees.

Veronica picks up her phone, swipes at the screen, and holds it out to Kevin. “I need a contact pic for you, Betty! Take a picture of me and my new bestie, Kevin, please?”

Kevin holds up Veronica’s phone; Veronica squishes onto the edge of Betty’s chair and slings her arm around her, and Betty has no choice but to press her cheek against Veronica’s and smile while Kevin snaps a picture.

“Thank you doll.” Veronica takes her phone from Kevin and holds it up. “Smile, please.”

She takes a picture of him and turns around to get one of Archie and Jughead. Archie sits up and smiles brightly for her but Jughead still has his beanie covering half his face, and Veronica grins as she taps her screen.

“Perfect,” she murmurs wickedly. “So perfect.”

She pockets her phone and winks at Betty. “Meet you by the dorm in, oh, say…?”

She glances at Kevin, who looks at Archie, who shrugs. “Half an hour?”

“Just enough time for me to show you all the prime hookup spots and how to place an order on the black market, AKA, Reggie Mantle’s drop box.”

“Oh yeah,” Jughead shoves his beanie back up and blinks. “Gotta cover the important stuff.”

Veronica twirls one finger around a lock of hair. “This sounds _very_ important. Betty, I’ll text you if I can’t find you?”

“Okay. Have fun!”

“Come on gorgeous, this’ll be way more fun than whatever educational hell Betty put you through.” Kevin offers his elbow to Veronica and she loops her arm through it, waves, and lets Kevin lead her out of the dining hall.

Betty turns towards the boys and crosses her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you two have to say for yourselves?”

“C’mon.” Jughead stands up from the table and Archie mimics him. “Let’s go talk outside.”

Betty pockets her phone and gets up, follows them out the back sliding glass door that leads to the patio and down the steps, across the grass towards the edge of the woods that lead into Fox Forest if you walk far enough.

Archie hovers at the edge of the tree line, his arms crossed over his chest. He looks bigger than she remembers, stronger, and for the first time she lets herself imagine what Archie must have gone through over the summer, imagines him channeling all of his rage and fear into building muscle and -

“Betty!” From the way Archie is looking at her she can tell it isn’t the first time he’s said her name.

“What?” she mumbles, stepping a little to the side, closer to Jughead.

Archie works his jaw. “Can I see your hands?”

She stares at him. “What?”

“We just want to make sure you’re okay,” Archie says. “We haven’t seen you since… I know you said you were fine on the phone when we talked but Betty, come on.”

“I’m okay,” she says shakily, her heart pounding in her chest. “Arch, I’m fine, I swear.”

“Betty.” He says her name so softly, like a prayer, and it hurts, this tenderness she doesn’t know how to accept. “Please.”

She whirls to her left to look at Jughead, who’s chewing on his bottom lip and has his hands stuffed in his back pockets. “Jug,” she pleads.

He gives her a sympathetic look but he doesn’t say anything, his eyes full of pain and she knows he’s thinking about That Night and how it ended, the last time he saw her before she went to LA for the summer.

Betty had kept it together the entire time she and Archie gave Sheriff Keller their statement That Night, she’d recited everything that happened in a slow, calm voice while Archie nodded and murmured agreements and occasionally bent over to vomit in the trash can. When they were done Sheriff Keller walked them out of his office over to where Fred Andrews and Jughead were waiting and then Betty’s mother came flying into the station with wild eyes screaming, _What did he do? What did he do?_

She swept right by Betty and Archie and fell into the waiting arms of Sheriff Keller, and Betty stood there, numb, while Archie was embraced by his father, and Jughead slowly walked up to Betty but when he reached out to hug her his expression turned to horror, and when she’d followed his gaze down blood was dripping from her hands onto the floor, as bright and red as the blood that had gotten all over the shovel and she’d collapsed into him as she began to scream -

“Betty.” Archie’s gotten closer to her, standing only a foot away, when did that happen?

“They’re fine, I just have a few scars.” She flashes her palms at him and then drops her arms by her sides. “See? It’s not a big deal.”

Archie’s eyes linger on her hands. “Okay.”

Jughead looks over at the dining hall, where a few students have moved outside to the back patio. “Let’s go for a walk.”

“Fire pit?” Archie suggests.

“Okay,” Betty agrees.

She and Archie follow Jughead as they walk along the edge of the trees, past the garden behind the girls’ dormitory, and find the trail that cuts through the woods. It isn’t totally dark out, the sun hasn’t gone down yet so Betty feels okay. She knows these woods, it’s home territory for them, she feels as safe as she ever does these days. Jughead seems relatively relaxed but Archie’s tense, walking behind her with one hand hovering near her back, not touching but close enough for her to be aware of its presence.

When she glances back at him he’s half turned as they walk, literally watching her back for her. She turns around and she keeps her eyes on Jughead's beanie and she _does not cry_ because she isn’t a weak little girl, she’s looked into the eyes of evil and seen her own darkness reflected back at her. She isn’t perfect Betty Cooper anymore, she isn’t the innocent little girl who loved pink and playing outside and was going to marry Archie Andrews one day, because good girls deserve good things and Betty was always, always good.

When they get to the fire pit Jughead sits down on one end of a log and after doing some careful, quick emotional math in her head Betty opts to sit down on the other end. Archie walks around them and sits a few logs away, kicks his legs out and rests his hands on his thighs.

“I think we need to talk about what the official story is,” Archie says seriously.

“There is no story,” Betty rebuffs.

“Betty,” Jughead murmurs.

“What? It’s true.”

“No it’s not,” Archie insists.

“Officially, yeah, yes it is,” she argues.

There’s only one written record of what happened to them That Night and it’s locked in Sheriff Keller’s office, in a file cabinet that only he has the key to. Their names were never released to the press, no one at school knows the whole story of what happened to Betty and Archie That Night except for Jughead.

And Cheryl Blossom.

“What about Veronica?” Archie asks.

“What about her?”

“What’s her deal?”

“It is a little suspicious that she showed up as a new student the night before the semester starts,” Jughead points out. 

“I think maybe there’s drama with her parents,” Betty responds. “I really don’t know.”

Jughead gives her a disbelieving look. “You don’t _know?_ ”

“What? It’s not like I googled her.”

“Maybe you should’ve,” Archie mutters.

“Okay, seriously Arch? Veronica can’t even make a bed, she’s harmless, trust me.”

“Does she know?” Archie asks.

“Seriously. Veronica?” Betty scoffs.

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I didn’t tell her anything!”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t hear it from someone else.”

“I’m pretty sure Cheryl put an unofficial gag order on anything related to it so I think we’re safe,” Betty shoots back. 

“For her benefit or yours?” Jughead muses.

“Our parents,” Betty mutters. “They don’t want everyone talking about… you know. It’s family business.”

“And you aren’t worried about her finding out?” Archie asks.

“Look, it’s fine, okay? She’s nice. She’s nice to me, I can handle her.”

Archie runs a hand over his face and gives her a serious look. “And are you okay?”

She pulls her sleeves down over her hands. “I’m fine.”

“You’re wearing a sweater.”

“So?”

Archie frowns. “So it’s still summer.”

“I was cold, okay?”

“Betty.”

“ _Archie_.”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Well this is turning out to be incredibly productive.”

Archie leans forward, the expression on his face so earnest and concerned it hurts. “Seriously. We haven’t seen you all summer, are you okay?”

_Dirt under her nails. Rain on her face, drenching her hair, her clothes. Cold metal in her hands._

“I was really busy with the internship,” she deflects.

“You didn’t even say goodbye!”

“My mom thought it would be a bad idea to see you so soon after…”

Archie huffs. “Of course she did.”

Betty shoves her hands under her thighs. “I said I was fine. I had all summer to deal with it, there isn’t anything going on that we need to talk about.”

The worst part is that Archie looks disappointed in her. “Are you sure?”

“Arch,” Jughead says softly.

“Whatever.” Archie gets up and dusts off his jeans. “I’m going to the gym, football tryouts are tomorrow.”

“Archie!” Betty’s voice cracks.

“What? You said you’re fine, so I don’t really see what the point of this is anyway.” Archie halfheartedly kicks the log he was sitting on and stalks off, hands in his pockets.

Betty curls forward and buries her head in her hands. “He hates me.”

Jughead slides down the log and gently bumps his shoulder against hers. “No he doesn’t.”

“I’d deserve it,” she mumbles. “If he did.”

“Hey.” When she doesn’t lift her head he shoulder checks her again. “You gonna look at me, Cooper?”

When she looks up she sees Jughead through a blur of tears. He frowns, head ducked a little so they’re eye level.

“Archie loves you,” he says firmly.

She lets out a laugh that sounds like a sob. “And look where that got him!”

“Betty.” Jughead reaches out, so slow, like he’s worried he’ll spook her, gently pulls her hands out from under her legs and rests them in her lap. “He’s worried about you.”

She tilts her head back and blinks rapidly so her tears don’t fall. “I don’t want anyone to be worried about me.”

“Sorry, don’t think that’s up to you.” 

She sniffs and runs the edge of her hand under her nose. “Maybe I don’t deserve that,” she suggests quietly.

Jughead looks pained. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

When she doesn’t say anything he puts one hand on her shoulder. “Hey. No one blames you for what happened that night.”

 _I blame me_ , she thinks, but she nods and tries her best to give him, if not a smile, then at least an expression of understanding.

“Archie wouldn’t want you to punish yourself,” he says gently.

Betty pulls away. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“We could talk about something else.”

She kicks her boot petulantly against the log. “Like what?”

He shrugs. “Ideas for stories for the Blue and Gold?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard but football tryouts are tomorrow.”

“Hard hitting stuff,” he deadpans.

“Jughead.”

“Yeah Betts?”

She swallows down the lump in her throat. “I think I need a break from solving mysteries for a little while, if that’s okay. Stick to safe topics. Sports. College applications. Student council elections. Normal stuff.”

He sighs and slings his arm over her shoulders. “You got it, Nancy Drew.”

She leans her head back against his arm. “Jug?”

“Yeah?”

She turns her head to look at him and a tear slides down the side of her nose. “I’m sorry I got you all tangled up in this.”

He curls over her and rests his forehead against hers, just for a moment. “Don’t you ever apologize for that. Got it?”

She tries to smile but she’s crying so she nods and reaches up to wipe her eyes. “Okay.”

“Come on.” He squeezes her shoulder gently. “I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

She and Jughead take the path through the woods and it’s getting dark now, with all the trees blocking out the sunset. She walks a little closer to him, and because Jughead is Jughead he doesn’t say anything about it, he doesn’t ask her if she’s okay or try to hold her hand because he already knows she isn’t okay and holding her hand would only prove it, and he knows her well enough to know she can’t handle that right now. He’s just _there_ , walking in silence next to her, all the way back through the woods until they get to the edge of the garden. 

They walk around her dorm towards the front entrance. Veronica isn’t here yet, Betty drops down into the swing that hangs from one of the trees in the courtyard and Jughead sits down next to her and winds his left hand around the chains.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” she tells him.

He shrugs. “It’s not like I have anything more important to do.”

Betty checks her phone but she doesn’t have a text from Veronica yet so she sets it on her lap. “Let’s hope Kev wasn’t serious about taking her all the way to Reggie’s drop box.”

Jughead laughs. “Veronica seems capable of acquiring liquor all on her own, if you ask me.”

“Is this going to be a problem?”

“Is what going to be a problem?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, you mean the fact that your new roommate is clearly rich and spoiled?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that.”

“Look around Betty. Rich, spoiled kids are everywhere here. I think I can handle it.”

“Okay, because she’s been nothing but nice to me and I could really use a female friend now that I’m _persona non grata_ with the Vixens thanks to Cheryl, and” -

“Betty. Slow down.” He rests his hand briefly on her shoulder. “I get it.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She sighs and looks down at her phone. “I wonder what they’re doing, anyway.”

“Well, we know what they’re _not_ doing.”

“True,” she laughs, and her phone buzzes in her lap with a text from Veronica. “Oh, this is her.”

_My tour guide has informed me that we'll be back at the dorm momentarily :)_

“She’s on her way,” Betty tells him.

He nods and stands up, tugging on his beanie. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He hesitates in front of her. “Hey, Betty?”

“Yeah?”

“If you aren’t okay” -

“I am,” she says quickly. “I’m okay.”

“Okay.” He nods, frowning a little. “I just meant… if you ever need someone to talk to, who knows what happened… I’m around.”

“Jug,” she whispers.

“Betty!” Veronica is skipping across the courtyard to her, Kevin waiting near the entrance to the boy’s dorm. “Did you miss me? Oh hey. Jughead, right?”

Jughead steps back and nods to Veronica. “Yeah. Hey Veronica. Have a good night, Betty.”

She gets up and presses her lips together in a tight smile. “Night, Jug.”

Jughead holds one hand up and walks away, crossing through the courtyard to meet Kevin by the boys’ dorm.

“Betty, you ready?” Veronica holds her hand out to Betty.

“Yeah.” Betty gives Veronica a smile and hopes she doesn’t look like she was crying. “Yeah, lets go.”

They go inside and up the stairs; to Betty’s relief Veronica doesn’t linger in the hallway as girls walk between rooms, passing flatirons and sweaters back and forth and comparing class schedules. They go straight to their room and Veronica takes out her room key with noticeable glee.

“Home sweet home,” she says, doing a Vanna White style arm as they go inside their room.

Veronica plugs her phone into a tiny pair of speakers she unpacks from a shopping bag and puts on a playlist, and Betty helps her finish unpacking, lovingly brushing her fingers over designer labels as she organizes Veronica’s closet while Veronica packs her book bag so it’ll be ready in the morning. It’s a little strange for Betty to have company in the bathroom, brushing her teeth side by side with Veronica at the sink and taking her makeup off with Veronica’s rose scented micellar water, but it’s nice to have someone to joke around with and have a person to say goodnight to when they get in bed and Betty turns the lamp off.

Veronica has no problems falling asleep in a new place that night but Betty can’t sleep, she rolls around in her bed for awhile and eventually sits up, looks sideways to glance at Veronica, who’s sprawled out on top of her covers wearing a fancy matching silk pajama set printed with little white terriers. Betty picks up her phone and unlocks it, goes to her texts and opens up her thread with Archie.

She stares down at the screen for a long time before she types out the same words she said to him That Night while he hyperventilated next to her, sitting on the side of the road waiting for Sheriff Keller to find them, the shovel held tightly in her lap and the gun carefully wrapped up in Archie’s jacket: _Dont quit on me._

The text goes through and she waits for a response, those little bubbles, _something_ , but nothing comes.

Betty sets her phone back down on her nightstand and tiptoes into the bathroom, lies down on the bathmat and does crunches until she feels like she’s going to fall asleep right there on the floor. She quietly goes back to her bed, crawls under her covers and is almost asleep when her phone buzzes. She grabs it and swipes before it can wake Veronica, and reads the text Archie sent her back: _Never_.


	3. The High Priestess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think all the main trigger warnings for this fic are in the tags but I’m going to add specific ones in authors notes on chapters I think need them just to make sure my bases are covered and you guys know what to look out for, so:
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter include mentions of violence, eating disorder behavior, and mentions of a parent in prison.

In the morning, Veronica is still in bed when Betty gets out of the bathroom, freshly showered and her hair brushed up in a damp ponytail. 

“Veronica,” Betty says softly, crossing the room to gently shake her shoulder. “Come on, time to get up.”

Veronica moans into her pillow. “Why is everything so early here?”

“If you want to get coffee and breakfast and actually have enough time to eat it, you've got about fifteen minutes to get ready.”

Veronica turns her head and stares at Betty. “Fifteen minutes?”

“Mhmm.”

“Fifteen _minutes?_ Oh my _god!_ ” Veronica leaps out of her bed and runs to the bathroom, catches herself on the doorway, and turns around to give Betty a panicked look. “New roommate rule, we do not tell anyone I had to use dry shampoo on the first day of school.”

“Okay,” Betty laughs, and Veronica groans and shuts herself in the bathroom.

Betty slings her towel over her desk chair and gets dressed: white short sleeved button down under a navy cardigan with long sleeves, a navy and burgundy plaid skirt, white knee socks and her oxfords. She sits at her desk and uses the small mirror attached to the wall to apply lip gloss and make sure her ponytail looks straight, and packs up her backpack: her pencil case, planner, her printed out class schedule, fresh notebooks, History, French, and Pre-Calc textbooks, and Polly’s old copy of Catcher in the Rye.

Veronica comes out of the bathroom twelve minutes later wrapped in a towel with a full face of makeup on: shimmery bronzer, perfect winged eyeliner and fuschia lipstick, and her hair is sleek and shiny like it’s just been freshly washed and blown out even though Betty knows it’s not.

“Oh god oh god why didn’t I get up when your alarm went off, you fully have my permission to drag me out of bed if I ever do this again.” Veronica throws her towel onto her unmade bed and Betty turns in her chair to give her roommate at least a semblance of privacy while she changes.

“Okay, how do I look?” Veronica asks a moment later.

When Betty spins her chair around Veronica’s wearing a white button down with a silver jeweled collar, navy and green plaid skirt, matching plaid knee socks and creamy beige saddle shoes that look brand new. Diamonds glint from her earlobes, a silver bracelet shines against one wrist, and her pearl necklace is nestled against the jeweled collar of her shirt. 

“You look great,” Betty tells her honestly, embarrassed that her cheeks flush but she can’t help it, Veronica is so glamorous in a way Betty isn’t used to. “But you probably look good in everything.”

“Oh, please, have you even looked in a mirror?” Veronica asks casually, and when Betty curls into herself Veronica tilts her head and walks over to stand next to her desk. 

“Betty,” she says seriously. “In the words of the iconic Cher Horawitz, you’re a total Betty. Betty.”

Veronica giggles and Betty can’t help but laugh a little along with her. She hasn’t felt this close to anyone since -

Since Archie. That Night.

“Come on.” Betty slides off her chair and picks up her backpack. “Let’s get some coffee before the line gets crazy.”

They go outside and walk to the dining hall, Veronica sticking close to her as they go inside and get in line at the coffee bar. When it’s their turn Veronica orders a skinny vanilla latte and Betty thinks about deviating from her normal order but then she thinks about what her mother would say, wasting calories on a drink like that, and gets a large coffee with a splash of nonfat milk instead. Veronica waits for Betty to stir a few packets of calorie-free sweetener into her coffee and then she loops her arm around Betty’s as she takes her first sip of her latte and lets out a satisfied sigh.

“Ready?” Veronica asks.

Betty clutches her cup in one hand and gives Veronica what she hopes looks like a confident smile. She doesn’t want Veronica to know how nervous she is, how much courage it took for Betty to come back from LA, back to school, like she’s a normal incoming senior and not the daughter of a monster.

They walk into the main part of the dining hall and just like that, the entire room falls silent and Betty freezes as one by one, heads turn to stare at her and Veronica.

The panic hits Betty so fast she almost drops her coffee. If her arm wasn’t currently wrapped around Veronica’s she’d turn on her heel and run but she can’t, because Veronica’s just standing there, her eyes narrowed at Cheryl Blossom, who’s watching them from across the room with a look of pure satisfaction on her face and Betty _cannot_ believe her, she knows better than to trust a Blossom but she thought Cheryl was on her side, at least in terms of keeping what happened between their families quiet.

“Betty.” Veronica gives her a serious look. “Do you still have my back?”

“Always,” Betty promises, because Veronica stood up for her yesterday, maybe Veronica would even understand.

Maybe.

“Come on.” There’s steel in Veronica’s voice and when she pulls Betty forward and starts to walk through the dining hall Betty has no choice but to get dragged along with her.

Betty doesn’t regret it until she realizes where Veronica is leading her and she drags her feet but Veronica’s stomping forward, taking Betty with her all the way to where Cheryl is sitting at the head of the Vixens table, looking incredibly smug. 

“Veronica,” Betty whispers. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Veronica glances sideways at Betty and Betty is instantly cowed by the look of icy steel on Veronica’s face. “Trust me,” Veronica says bitterly. “I’m sure.”

She lets go of Betty’s arm and everyone at the Vixens’ table gasps when Veronica hops up onto the table right next to Cheryl’s tray. Cheryl crosses her arms over her navy blue short sleeved turtleneck, her spider brooch pinned above her heart.

“Excuse me heathen, what do you think you’re doing?” she asks Veronica.

Betty watches in shock as Veronica smiles like she doesn’t have a care in the world and crosses one leg over the other. “Did you tell everybody?”

Cheryl smiles back and flips her hair over one shoulder. “Everyone with a school email address.”

Everyone except Betty, she means, because Betty checked her email before she got in the shower this morning and all she had in her inbox was the standard school-wide email welcoming everyone to the new semester, and one from her mother asking her how everything was going so far and reminding Betty they’re having lunch on Sunday.

Veronica nods, so casual, so cool. “So, do you feel good about yourself? Gossiping about the new girl to the entire school?”

The new girl? Betty feels a rush of relief at the idea that maybe Cheryl actually kept her mouth shut about That Night, and then she immediately feels guilty, because clearly Cheryl didn’t keep her mouth shut about something, something apparently about Veronica.

“I thought the student body had a right to know about the kind of people they may be associating with,” Cheryl shoots back. 

“Ah, I see, so you were just looking out for everyone,” Veronica says calmly. “Because you care so much, right?” She smiles and leans forward a little. “Well, here’s the thing, _Cherry Bombshell_ \- I can google too.”

“Congratulations,” Cheryl says dryly, although Betty can tell she’s worried.

What the hell did Cheryl write in that email?

“Don’t you want to know what I found out about you?” Veronica asks brightly. “See, the thing is, I’m not from here, I’m from an actual city. So I’ve never heard of the Blossoms, but my, your family certainly ends up in the press a lot! Although, almost everything I could find was about your brother, what was his name again? Jason, right? Yup, I read all about that. And Cheryl, honestly, I mean this sincerely when I say that I am _so sorry_ for your loss. I can’t even imagine how much pain you must be in. Losing your brother like that. How it must torture you, thinking about what happened to him.”

Betty stands there, watching in horrified fascination as Veronica casually talks about Jason Blossom with his twin sister, not seeming the least bit bothered that Cheryl has dropped her gaze to the floor, her face slowly turning white.

“The thing is, Cheryl,” Veronica continues. “I know girls like you. Girls with money, and looks. Spoiled little rich girls who think they can do whatever they want and get away with it, because everyone is too afraid to stand up to them. But I see you, Cheryl. I see a girl in so much pain she has to bring other people down just to feel good about herself. But you can’t hurt me, because I’m not ashamed of my family or who I am. I don’t have any secrets to hide. And you might think you’re hot shit because no one in this podunk little town knows any better, but I do. And you’re nothing but a pathetic, entitled girl who gets her kicks talking behind people’s backs, and honestly? It’s sad. It’s not cute. I feel sorry for you, I really do.”

Veronica slides off the table and then, very subtly, so much so that Betty thinks she’s the only one who notices, Veronica slips two fingers under Cheryl’s tray. She flicks them and flips the tray over, right into Cheryl’s lap, and Cheryl shrieks as her red and navy plaid skirt gets covered in strawberry Belgian waffles.

“Oops,” Veronica says flatly, and walks back over to Betty. “Come on Betty, I’ve lost my appetite.”

Veronica grabs Betty‘s hand and yanks them around, Betty barely has enough time to glance back over her shoulder to see everyone, including Jughead and Archie, staring at them in stunned silence, before Veronica drags her out of the main room of the dining hall.

“Tell me there’s a bathroom somewhere in this goddamn building,” Veronica snaps.

Betty wordlessly leads Veronica to the left and into the alcove where the bathrooms are, Veronica shoves the door to the ladies room open and Betty follows her inside. Veronica stalks over to the sinks and rests her hands on the counter, closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths before looking at Betty in the mirror.

“So you know?”

“Know?”

Veronica gives her an annoyed look. “About my dad.”

“No, I, uh… Cheryl didn’t send me that email, I actually have no idea what you guys were talking about,” Betty admits.

One of Veronica’s eyebrows shoots up. “Really. Like I’m supposed to believe that.”

“Looks, here, I swear.” Betty pulls out her phone and sighs into her email, and turns the screen around to show Veronica her empty inbox. “I really don’t know anything. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “You’ll hear it from someone anyway now. Why didn’t Cheryl send it to you?”

Betty pulls the sleeves of her cardigan down over her palms. “She’s not exactly my biggest fan. She probably got a kick out of excluding me.”

“She must really hate you,” Veronica says faintly, fiddling with her pearl necklace. “Didn’t she say you were related?”

“We’re cousins,” Betty reminds her. “Our families don’t get along. It’s… complicated. Hey, when did you have time to Google stalk Cheryl anyway?”

Veronica smirks. “I didn’t. I made Kevin give me all the dirt on her last night. I had a feeling I’d need it.”

Betty swallows down bile and reminds herself that Kevin is her friend, that just because he knows what happened doesn’t mean he’d tell. To her knowledge he only knows what his dad told him anyway, the short version, not what happened to her and Archie, and Betty is sure that as much as Kevin loves to gossip he knows to be quiet about this particular topic.

But, still. She’s curious. “What did he tell you?”

Veronica shrugs. “That some crazy serial killer with a bad nickname murdered Cheryl’s brother Jason and her family hasn’t gotten over it. Not that I can really blame them, I mean, who shoots a teenage boy for no reason? That man must have been seriously deranged. Oh god, this isn’t like a _thing_ is it?”

Betty pushes her fingertips against her palms and mentally wills herself to not pass out. “What?”

Veronica looks a little freaked out. “I know everyone gets all hysterical about the crime rate of NYC but it’s really very safe most of the time, and now I live in Bumblefuck, Nowheresville USA and this stupid town has like, _cults_ and _gangs_ and freaking _serial killers_ and I don’t know if I can handle this much stress, I do not do well with this stuff Betty, please tell me there aren’t more killers just like that guy on the loose, oh god, they caught him right? The person who killed Jason Blossom?”

The fabric of her cardigan dulls the sensation of Betty’s nails digging into her palms as she tries to follow along. It sounds like Kevin told Veronica the official version of the story, the one that ran in all the papers. “What did Kevin say about him?”

“Jason?”

“Yeah.”

Veronica shrugs. “That a random serial killer shot him in the head. Oh god, I’m so sorry, he must have been your cousin, right?”

“Yeah, they caught him,” Betty mumbles through numb lips, her nails pushing through the fabric of her cardigan. “It was a tragedy.”

“Doesn’t give Cheryl an excuse to act the way she does. Wasn’t it like, a year ago?”

“Yeah but it still feels fresh for her, I think. She’s probably going to try to make your life a living hell now, you know that right?”

“She’s a bully,” Veronica states. “And the only way to stand up to a bully is to hit back.”

“Well you definitely accomplished that.”

“Besides, I don’t need her,” Veronica says flippantly. “I have you, don’t I?”

“Of course,” Betty tells her.

Veronica tilts her head, and then to Betty’s surprise she turns around and pulls Betty into a hug. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Betty asks, overwhelmed by Veronica’s perfume, her soft cheek pressed against her own, the fierceness in the way she’s holding Betty.

Veronica pulls back just enough for her to be able to look at Betty. “You aren’t like the rest of them.”

Betty’s frozen; she’s never quite felt like this before, like someone’s trying to see all the way down to her bones. “I’m not?”

“No.” Veronica declares. “You’re different.”

Betty wonders if this is what it feels like to fall in love, being under the gaze of a person who’s looking at her like there’s an entire world inside her. It makes her think of Polly, her sister’s big eyes and her big heart and all her broken dreams, dreams that died with Jason. “Is that a good thing?” 

Veronica’s lips curve up in a smile and she leans forward to rest her forehead against Betty’s. “Oh Betty,” she says, like she knows a secret Betty doesn’t. “You don’t even know.”

Veronica is warm and Betty feels like she’s falling, she’s gotten so used to isolating herself that it makes her want to cry, to be this close to another person, to not be alone anymore. It’s almost too much to hope for, having a real friend that doesn’t know about her ugly past, being able to start fresh with someone. “Know what?”

“We’re going to do great things together, Betty Cooper.”

And maybe it’s just because there’s something about Veronica, like with her anything is possible, but in this moment Betty believes her.

They go back outside and Betty offers to walk Veronica to the administration building to get her ID before first period starts but Veronica shakes her off, claiming it’ll be good for her to find her way around on her own.

“I once found a friend’s walk-up in Alphabet City with a dead iPhone and no map - don’t ask, I have no idea why her family lived in that hellhole, they were _five floors up_ , it was a _nightmare_ \- so I think I can handle campus,” Veronica says confidently. “I’ll meet you back here at lunch?”

“Okay,” Betty tells her, pretending like she understood whatever the hell Veronica just said. “Good luck with classes.”

“Thank you.” Veronica flips her hair and heads off to get her ID, leaving Betty alone.

She thinks about going back inside the main room and getting a bowl of cereal or a bar, something quick to tide her over until lunch, but she can’t bear the thought of showing her face so soon after Veronica’s stand-off with Cheryl so she walks to the courtyard and sits down on the swing, drinks her coffee and gets a head start on The Great Gatsby, the first book on her AP English reading list.

Students start filing out of the dining hall at eight-thirty when breakfast ends, she puts her book away and watches for Jughead and Archie, who eventually emerge and make their way over to her when they see her. 

“Hey, you missed breakfast.” Archie holds out a peanut butter flavored protein bar at her.

“Thanks Arch,” she says softly, and slips the bar into her backpack.

“I wouldn’t say she missed it exactly,” Jughead says with a hint of a smile.

Betty squirms with embarrassment. “You saw that, huh?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure everyone in the dining hall saw it.”

“The point is, you didn’t eat.” Archie looks vaguely annoyed. “I’ve got to book it to chem, see you guys at lunch?”

“Yeah,” she and Jughead both say, and Archie nods and runs off the catch up with Moose and Reggie.

“Alright Cooper.” Jughead holds a print out of his schedule out to her. “How’d we do?”

She gets her schedule out of her backpack where she slipped it between the pages of her planner and unfolds it. “Okay. First period, Modern European history.”

Jughead nods and points to his schedule. “With Haggly?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Same.”

“Okay. Walk and talk?” she suggests.

“Sure.”

They start walking towards the humanities building, where all the language and social science classes are taught. Betty glances sideways at Jughead, who’s wearing his beanie but otherwise dressed in uniform - a white button down with navy slacks, red and navy striped tie, messenger bag dangling from one shoulder.

“Hey Jug?”

He flashes her an easy smile. “What’s up Betts?”

“Did you get Cheryl’s email?”

His brow furrows. “You didn’t?”

“No.”

“Wait, Cheryl sent a dossier on Veronica’s family to everyone but her roommate?”

“Apparently.”

“So she’s sticking with her strategy of completely shutting you out, I take it?”

“It’s fine,” she says quickly.

He shoots her a disbelieving look. “You don’t have to act like everything’s fine Betty. Cheryl” -

“She’s just trying to protect herself, I get it.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually defending Cheryl Blossom.”

“None of it was her fault, Jughead.”

“It wasn’t yours, either.”

“I told you I didn’t want to talk about this.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “And yet…”

“What was in it, anyway?”

“The email?”

“Yeah.”

He glances sideways at her. “It wasn’t exactly nice.”

She lets out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I figured that.”

He sighs and pulls out his phone, taps the screen a few times and holds it out to her. “Here, see for yourself.”

Betty shakes her head; she can’t read it, she’d feel like she was violating Veronica’s privacy. God knows Betty would die of shame if Veronica ever found out about her family, what they’ve done, the kind of people Betty comes from. “Just give me the highlights?” 

Jughead nods and pockets his phone. “Well, you were right about the parental drama. Her father - Hiram Lodge - owns his own company, Hiram Lodge Industries. Worth billions. Veronica isn’t just rich, she’s a one percenter. Or, was, I guess.”

“Was?”

“Her dad got indicted, white collar stuff. The trial was over the summer.”

Betty’s stomach twists with dread. “And?”

Jughead shakes his head. “It wasn’t good. He was sentenced a few weeks ago.”

“Is he…?” Betty doesn’t want to say the words, she knows Jughead will understand what she means.

“His sentence started this week,” he says delicately. “Which would explain the last minute arrival.”

“She didn’t say anything.” 

“Would you?” Jughead immediately winces. “Can we please forget I just said that?”

“It’s okay,” she dismisses. “We don’t… just because I don’t want to talk about it doesn’t mean I’m in denial.”

“Okay,” he says but he sounds like he doesn’t believe her.

She follows Jughead around the back of the school library where the humanities building stands across the quad. A few girls are lying on a blanket with their sleeves pushed up and uniform skirts rolled halfway up their thighs, trying to hold onto their summer tans. They take the path that cuts through it, Jughead pensive and quiet next to her.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “Just, whatever you’re thinking, go ahead. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I get why you don’t want to talk about what happened, and I respect that,” he says cautiously. “But if you ever want to talk to Veronica… she might be more understanding than we initially assumed, you know?”

“It isn’t the same thing,” she argues. “Okay, so her dad did what, stole some money? How is that even comparable to” -

“It’s still her dad,” Jughead cuts her off, his voice quiet and pained. 

Betty gives him a bewildered look. “Do you feel sorry for her or something? I thought you didn’t like her.”

“I don’t know her,” he corrects Betty. “But I know what having a dad in jail feels like.”

“Jug,” she murmurs, hating that her throat tightens like she might cry. 

Jughead is the only other person Betty knows who’s been through anything like this, knows what it feels like to have your parent locked away in a dark place, to carry that shame with you everywhere.

Until Veronica, apparently.

They stop in front of the door to the Humanities building but instead of opening it he reaches out, slowly, and curls his fingers around her wrist. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re all alone.”

It’s so honest, so caring, that the walls of her heart shudder and bolt down. She can’t do sweet anymore, she can’t let herself be emotional, weak. 

The last time she really gave into her feelings she almost got Archie killed.

“So what, you think if Veronica and I braid each other’s hair and talk about our daddy issues that’ll fix me?” she asks sardonically.

Jughead yanks on the door to hold it open and doesn’t look at her. “I never said you were broken, Betts.”

“You didn’t have to,” she mumbles as she steps inside.

“Hey.” He follows her in and stops at the bottom of the staircase. “Betty, c’mon, no one thinks that.”

“Let’s go, I don’t want to be late,” she deflects, and starts to climb the stairs, giving him no choice but to follow her up to the third floor where the history classes are taught.

They climb two flights and join the stream of students, fellow seniors heading to European History and AP US Government, some juniors rushing to American History, a few scared freshman who look like babies to her with their scrawny legs and big eyes trying to find their Geography classroom.

“I think it’s here,” Jughead says quietly, and Betty’s so ashamed of the way she snapped at him a few minutes ago that she merely nods and follows him into the classroom he’s pointing at.

They walk in and do the usual scan of the classroom. Toni is sitting in the back row next to Fangs, wearing motorcycle boots with her knee socks, pink dip dyed hair pulled up into high pigtails. Ethel is sitting in the center of the front row, a little navy bow with white polka dots in her red bob. When she sees Betty she gives her a hopeful smile and looks at the empty desks on either side of her.

“Hi Betty, Jughead,” she says, still shy even though they’ve known her for years.

“Hi Ethel,” Betty says, and glances back at Jughead.

They do some quick telepathy, after working on the Blue and Gold together for a few years, long afternoons spitballing stories and researching and nights spent hopped up on caffeine frantically editing and meeting deadlines, she and Jughead have developed the ability to basically communicate solely on facial expressions, it’s something she’s always liked about him, even when it annoys her - he can always, always read her.

“Can I sit with you?” Betty asks, even though she knows the answer is yes, because it feels nice to be nice, she knows it will make Ethel feel good. Betty doesn’t have the same kind of caché she had last year when she was on the Vixens but she still has more social clout than Ethel, they both know that asking is a mere pretext, that Betty is doing Ethel a kindness.

And just like Betty thought, Ethel’s face lights up. “Of course.”

Betty offers her a tight smile and sits down at the desk to Ethel’s right as Cheryl breezes through the door. She purses her lips as she stalks over to the aisle where Jughead is still standing, and puts one hand on her hip.

“Move it, trailer trash,” she snaps.

“Cheryl,” Betty hisses, but Jughead merely rolls his eyes and steps to the side.

“That the best you got, Blossom?” He even smiles, like he couldn't give a shit about she just called him.

She smirks as she shoulders past him. “Can’t blow your load all at once, you know?”

“I’m honored that you spend so much time thinking of ways to insult me,” Jughead replies. “It might be more effective if I actually gave a shit about what you think, which I don’t, but, you know. Points for effort.”

“Oh my god,” Betty whispers miserably.

Cheryl flips him the middle finger and stalks past him over to the windows to sit next to Tina and Ginger, and Jughead knocks his knuckles against Betty’s desk.

“Welcome to senior year.” Jughead winks at her and saunters down the aisle to sit with Toni and Fangs as the bell rings and the first day of school officially begins.


	4. The Fool

Veronica isn’t in any of Betty’s morning classes and by the time Betty gets to the dining hall for lunch she’s practically vibrating with anxiety, she hasn’t been able to get everything that happened at breakfast out of her head - Cheryl’s face as Veronica had torn into her, the way everyone had stared, Veronica’s declaration that Betty was different, which made her feel so _special_ in a way that she isn’t ready to examine too closely. She wasn’t prepared for it, Veronica’s easy intimacy, her loyalty, the way she claimed Betty as hers and who is Betty to argue, how could she not want to be allied with the most worldly, elegant girl she’s ever met, a girl who looked at Betty and saw something different, worthy of noticing.

Veronica was in a good mood when they said goodbye but it had to be a facade, Betty thinks, knowing what she knows now. She can’t even imagine the kind of emotional stress Veronica must be under, to have her father go away to prison, move to a new town and start at a new school all in the same weekend.

Maybe Veronica is just more independent, more self-sufficient than Betty. Her mother clearly trusts her, gives her a longer leash than Betty’s ever had. Maybe Veronica had ample time to prepare for her father leaving, if the trial was over the summer like Jughead said then she must have at least had some time to process, to say goodbye. 

She’s lucky, Betty thinks, and then she hates herself for it, because she wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone and especially not Veronica, an innocent teenager, someone’s child.

 _We’re just kids,_ Archie had said in dazed disbelief That Night, clutching the gun wrapped bundle to his chest. _We’re just kids_.

Veronica is waiting for her across the lobby from the coffee bar, her back against the wall, arms crossed, pretending not to notice when other students stare at her as they walk past her into the dining room. The words of Betty’s speech that she’s been practicing in her head all morning get stuck in her throat when she sees Veronica and when Veronica notices Betty her relief is palpable, she kicks away from the wall and gives Betty a tentative smile, and Betty throws her arms around her.

Veronica lets out a patient sigh and hugs her back. “Who told you?”

“Jughead.”

“Mm. Well, now you know,” Veronica says casually.

Betty marvels at how she does it, act like it isn’t a big deal. “Veronica, I’m so sorry.”

Veronica releases her and steps back, her expression a mask. “You’re _sorry?_ ”

“Y-yeah,” Betty stutters. 

Veronica’s lips pinch together. “I don’t need your pity, okay?”

Betty recoils like she’s been slapped, her eyes filling with tears. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Veronica says coolly. 

Betty looks away so Veronica can’t see her cry and digs her nails into her palms. “I just meant, I’m sorry you’re going through that. That’s all.”

“Shit. Betty, I’m sorry.” Veronica yanks Betty back into the hug. “I’m just really defensive about this stuff. Please don’t cry.”

Betty sniffs and lets Veronica hug her, her arms limp at her sides but her hands clenched into fists. “We don’t have to talk about it,” she says tearily. “I just wanted you to know I’m not judging you.”

“Oh Betty.” Veronica sighs and give Betty a half-patronizing, half-comforting pat on the shoulder. “I know.”

“Okay.” When Betty blinks tears roll down her cheeks.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Veronica says apologetically. “After my dad got arrested and it hit the internet all my friends dropped me. And snitched to the tabloids, it’s possible I may have developed some trust issues.”

Betty tries to swallow the lump in her throat. “It’s okay, I get it.”

Veronica cups Betty’s face in her hands and lets out a gentle laugh, like Betty is an adorable, stupid little puppy. “C’mon, stop! I’m the one whose dad is in prison, why are you crying?”

Betty can’t move, trapped in Veronica’s dark eyes and her hands holding Betty’s face and Betty is so afraid all of a sudden, of what Veronica can see in her, that she pulls away, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her cardigan.

“C’mon, lets get some food,” she suggests. “You must be starving.”

Veronica nods and catches Betty by the wrist. “Hey. You’re good, right? We’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Betty lies. “I’m good.”

They walk into the dining room hand in hand; a few people stare but Veronica stares harder and leads Betty over to the line. “Don’t worry about it,” she says to Betty. “People will get over it, something more exciting than a little white collar crime is bound to happen eventually, right?”

Betty takes the tray Veronica hands her. “This is Riverdale, you shouldn’t have to wait too long.”

Betty takes Veronica’s cue and follows her to the sandwich station, Betty orders a vegetarian wrap on a whole wheat pita that comes stuffed with avocado, cucumber, sprouts, and quinoa and tries not to drool over the tomato, mozzarella and chicken panini Veronica gets.

When they get to their table the boys are already there, sitting in the same chairs as last night. Veronica switches it up and sits down next to Kevin, which means Betty is forced to sit on her other side, next to Archie. When none of the boys say anything, food abandoned on their trays or frozen halfway to their mouths, Veronica sighs and sweeps her hair behind her shoulders.

“Okay,” she says patiently. “I’ll give you, lets say, two minutes for questions. Go ahead.”

Kevin’s eyes widen. “Did he do it?”

“Kevin!” Betty exclaims.

“What? She just said we could ask questions!” 

“You can’t ask _that,_ ” Betty retorts.

“It’s okay, Betty,” Veronica says diplomatically, and gives Kevin a polite smile. “I know what everyone in the media says but I stand by my family and that’s all I have to say about it. Next?”

“Pass.” Jughead resumes eating his burger. “None of my business.”

“Archie?” Veronica asks.

Archie looks sideways to give Betty a half-panicked look and she subtly shakes her head.

“How were the rest of your classes?” he asks. 

Veronica blinks, like he’s completely caught her off guard, and then she gives Betty a sly smile. “Archie and I have Psychology together.”

“Oh,” Bety responds, hoping it sounds neutral. 

She and Archie used to have more classes together back when they started Riverdale Prep but Betty’s mother pushed her to take more AP classes this year and Archie’s going for a football scholarship. Betty tried to remind herself that she knew senior year was going to be different, even if nothing had happened last summer she and Archie were already beginning to get pulled in different directions. She was starting to think about Northwestern, Columbia, BU, Emerson, while Archie was obsessively researching D-1 schools: UNC, UCLA, Duke, Baylor, Georgia Tech.

So they were already possibly going in different directions, in ways they were aware of in a vague, hazy sort of way, but now, with their romantic future as dead as Jason Blossom, Betty takes it almost as fact that they’ll be at different schools next year.

“I still need to figure out my extracurriculars.” Veronica takes a sip of her water. “The guidance counselor wants me signed up by the end of the week, and I definitely need to have something to put on college applications.”

“Do you know where you’re applying to schools yet?” Jughead asks.

Veronica gives him a sweet smile. “I’m going to Harvard.”

He looks amused. “You applying early admission?”

“Of course.” Veronica says it with the ease of someone used to getting everything they want.

“The NCAA has Harvard at number eleven on their D-1 power rankings,” Archie contributes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what that is.” Veronica takes a delicate bite of her panini.

“Football,” Betty informs her.

“Oh!” Veronica leans over Betty to smile at Archie. “You play, right?

“Yeah, tryouts are this afternoon.” He glances sideways at Betty. “Are you coming?”

She knows why he’s asking, she and Jug have sat in the bleachers and cheered for Archie during his tryout every season since freshman year. They cover football for the Blue and Gold, they’d go even if they weren’t primarily there to support Archie.

“We can watch?” Veronica looks very interested in this prospect.

Betty glances at her. “Do you want to?”

Veronica smirks. “You mean, do I want to watch a bunch of hot, sweaty guys in tight pants run around and workout? Yes, yes I do.”

Kevin holds up one hand and high fives her. “Amen sister.”

*

When classes are over for the day Betty and Veronica meet at their dorm so they can run upstairs and dump their books in their room before heading over to football tryouts. Veronica grabs her pair of oversized black sunglasses on their way out and skips next to Betty as they walk through campus, clearly excited for a little guy cruising. Veronica hasn’t explicitly said it but Betty assumes she’s single, if Veronica left a boy back home she’s obviously not missing him.

Their earlier spat seems completely forgotten and Betty walks with Veronica’s arm looped through hers, listening as Veronica gives her a running commentary of her afternoon classes ( _I’m so happy we have AP French together, Econ is so boring but I want to major in business so what can you do, ugh, isn’t calc the worst_ ) and her thoughts on extracurriculars ( _I’m not really a club person, I have this friend from my old school who makes costumes and you guys have a design group but I don’t know, I’m more into buying clothes than making them, I’ve never tried drama though, that might be fun, or debate_ ).

When they get all the way to the administration building Betty leads Veronica east around the front of the building and down the path that leads towards the football field. It’s past the athletic center where all the physical education classes are taught, it has a student gym on the second floor Betty uses in the winter when it’s too cold to run outside.

Jughead has beaten them to the bleachers, he’s sitting on the bottom row laughing about something with Toni while Archie and the rest of the guys warm up on the field. Betty waves to them and leads Veronica over to sit down next to Jughead. Veronica climbs up to the next row and stretches out, peering over the top of her sunglasses as she rolls her sleeves up above her elbows.

“Hi, I’m Veronica,” she says to Toni. “I’m Betty’s new roommate.”

Toni looks Veronica up and down. “Yeah, I know, I’m Cheryl’s roommate. Toni Topaz.”

“Oh.” Veronica shrinks a little. “Right, of course.”

“Don’t worry.” Toni spins around on the bottom bleacher to flash Veronica a smile. “She’ll get over it. Cheryl dishes out a lot of shit, it won’t hurt her to learn how to take it.”

Veronica grins. “I take it you know from experience?”

Toni raises an eyebrow. “You could say that.”

Next to Betty Jughead angles his notebook sideways so she can read it, he’s got their article on tryouts already outlined - what positions are available, who’s on the field, there’s even a hilarious sketch of Coach Clayton in the bottom corner.

“You make my job so easy,” she tells him.

Jughead shrugs. “It’s the same every year, I can write articles about football in my sleep.”

“Please don’t.”

“Yes Chief.”

“Jug.” 

Technically Betty is Editor-In-Chief of the Blue and Gold this year but she feels a little weird about having a higher title than him, he’s been working on the paper almost as long as she has, in her mind it belongs to both of them equally.

“Hey, that’s your title, what would you prefer instead, Madam Secretary? Or do you want the full title - Ms. Editor-In-Chief Betty Cooper? Yeah, that does sound more refined, I suppose. I can go bigger, really pump it up for effect. What about something like, Elizabeth Gumshoe of the House of Cooper, first of her name, the Editor-In-Chief, Queen of Perfect Ponytails, Breaker of Hard Hitting Stories and Mother of Brilliant Ideas?”

“Want me to call you the assistant?” she shoots back, trying not to laugh. “Because I will.”

“Excuse me, that’s assistant _editor,_ ” he says primly.

“Hey, Betty.” Veronica leans down between her and Jughead. “Help me out here, who do we care about and more importantly, are they single?”

Toni laughs. “Chill, man-eater, you’ve got plenty of options.”

“Like…” Veronica squints and points at Chuck Clayton. “What about him?”

“No,” Betty and Toni both say at the same time. 

Veronica pouts. “What do you mean, no?”

“He’s a total player,” Betty explains. “Trust me, he’s way more trouble than he’s worth.”

Veronica lets out a mournful sigh. “He’s so hot though.”

“Sure he is.” Toni smirks. “Just ask him. Chuck’s got the biggest ego out of every guy in the senior class.”

Veronica tilts her head. “Are you using ego as a euphemism?”

Toni rolls her eyes. “No, he actually thinks he’s God’s gift to women. And he’s the coach's son so he thinks he has more privilege than everyone else.”

“That’s because he does.” Jughead unzips the Nikon case of the DSLR he checked out of the AV department and slings the strap around his neck. “Even Reggie isn’t that bad.”

“There.” Betty points out where Reggie is running sprints next to Archie. “That’s Reggie Mantle.”

“Provider of all your pharmaceutical needs,” Toni adds under her breath. 

“Cute,” Veronica comments. “ _Very_ cute. We like?”

“Reggie is like a very old luxury car that doesn’t run anymore,” Betty says. “Pretty to look at but not a lot going on underneath.”

“Betty’s trying to find a nice way to say that he’s hot and dumb,” Toni clarifies.

Veronica shrugs. “I can think of worse qualities. Oh, hey, who’s that?”

She’s pointing at Munroe Moore, who’s lifted his jersey to wipe the sweat off his face, exposing his six pack.

“Archie’s roommate,” Jughead answers, the camera shutter clicking as he takes a few shots of Reggie and Archie running.

“Hey, did you, Fangs and Sweet Pea get the triple like you wanted?” Betty asks.

“No, somehow the request got mixed up and I ended up with Moose, go figure.”

“Sorry.” Betty knows he was hoping for the triple, sticking together with his two real guy friends other than Archie, south side solidarity and all that.

He and Archie apparently made some pact freshman year to never room together because Jughead spends almost all their school breaks at the Andrews’ anyway and they don’t want to risk getting totally sick of each other at school. Betty doesn’t really understand it, if she had a built in friend she could’ve roomed with she would’ve done it in a heartbeat but she knows Archie and Jug are really more like brothers and sometimes fight like it too, maybe they need space from each other the way she and Polly used to, they would’ve pulled each other’s hair out in one night if they’d ever been forced to share a room.

Coach Clayton blows his whistle and the guys on the field start running through plays, their muscles flexing in their tight practice uniforms.

Veronica smiles and tilts her face to the sun. “I think I’m going to like it here.”

By the time tryouts are over Jughead’s taken plenty of photos and Betty’s turned his outline into a rough draft, they should be able to get the full article together before dinner. It’s one of the reasons she convinced Jughead to join the Blue and Gold sophomore year, not only is he a brilliant writer but they work so well together. They never have an issue producing articles; usually Betty has to hold him back, reminding him that word count, spacing and layouts matter as well as the quality of the content.

All the boys are in a huddle with Coach Clayton and Betty finds herself nervous even though she knows Archie’s going to make it, it’s almost guaranteed. He made varsity last year but that’s only because Jason’s death opened up a spot, and between that and the whole… _thing_ with Grundy, Archie didn’t have the kind of killer season he should’ve. This year is a fresh start and the one that matters most, Archie’s chance to finally claim his greatness.

When they break apart Archie comes running down the field to them, face lit up. “I did it!” he shouts, skidding to a stop in front of the bleachers. “I’m on varsity!”

His joy is so all encompassing that Betty gets swept up in it, she squeals and jumps to her feet. “Of course you are, Arch, that’s amazing, congratulations!”

She throws her arms around his neck and he picks her up and spins her around, and Betty doesn’t realize until she looks up and sees his face, grass and sky blurring around his head as they spin, that this is the first time they’ve touched since That Night and the realization makes her stomach sink like a stone, and as soon as her toes touch the grass she lets go of Archie and stumbles away.

“I’ve got to go,” she mumbles, reaching for her backpack. “I forgot I have to check a book out for History” -

“What book?” Jughead gives her a baffled look. “I thought we were going to type this up before dinner.”

“I’ll meet you there, I just have to run to the library first,” Betty lies, and runs off before any of them can see her start to cry.

*

“What the hell was that about?” Jughead asks, when Betty meets him outside the locked former classroom that constitutes the Blue and Gold office in the basement of the humanities building forty-five minutes later. 

He’s leaning against the wall, clicking through the photos he took, his beanie slightly askew. Betty spent half an hour crying quietly in the ladies bathroom on the second floor of the library, where no one ever goes, and then spent a full five minutes cleaning up in front of the mirror, blowing her nose, splashing cold water on her face and dabbing concealer around her eyes to cover up the redness but they’re still a little puffy.

She never thought she’d spend the first day of her senior year of high school hiding in a bathroom crying over Archie Andrews.

She never thought she’d cry over Archie. She thought they’d go to prom together, become college sweethearts, get engaged after graduation and live somewhere exciting, like Chicago or D.C or New York City. 

She thought they’d do a lot of things.

She digs the office key out of her backpack and doesn’t look at him. “What was what about?”

She’s spent a lot of time wondering about it, how much Archie and Jughead talked about That Night over the summer. She knows Jughead knows what happened but she wonders if he knows what it _means_ , if he understands just how deeply Betty and Archie were fractured in ways no one can see on the outside.

They didn’t die That Night, but their innocence did.

And then he catches her eye and she sees how closely he’s watching her, and she feels stupid for doubting him.

He’s Jughead. Of course he knows.

“You know what I’m talking about.” He sounds annoyed, or worried, or both. “With you and Archie.”

Betty unlocks the door to the Blue and Gold and pushes it open. “There is no me and Archie.”


	5. Temperance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a few chapters because I like making outlines but I’m terrible at sticking to them. Trigger warnings for this chapter include self-harm and references to violence.

When they’re finished eating lunch the next day Archie zips up his backpack and looks right across the table at Betty. “Hey Betty, can you help me with that history thing before next period?”

She freezes along with everyone else at their table, Archie’s never been a great liar but this is bad, even for him. He isn’t even trying, which means this must be important, so she nods and gets up from the table even though it’s the last thing she really wants to do, because it’s Archie asking and she’d do anything for him, even now.

Maybe even especially now. How can she refuse him anything after what happened to them That Night, because of her?

“Do you want to go outside?” she asks Archie.

“Yeah, thanks.” Relief washes all over his face.

“Meet you at English?” she says to Jughead, who nods while giving Archie some major side eye, he either doesn’t know what’s going on with Archie or he doesn’t support it, she can’t tell which.

Betty shoulders her backpack and tries not to look like she’s walking to the gallows. “Okay, see you guys later.”

“But… you don’t even have History together,” Kevin says faintly.

“I don’t think they mean that kind of history,” Veronica comments wryly.

Betty flushes and follows Archie out the back door and around the back deck of the dining hall. She drops her backpack down by her feet in the grass and leans against the side of the building, watching Archie pace back in forth as the dread builds and builds in her chest until she can’t take it anymore.

“What’s up, Archie?”

When he looks at her Betty almost flinches, just from the look on his face, like he’s really upset about something. “Are you mad at me?”

Of all the questions he could’ve asked, she wasn’t expecting that one. “What?”

He looks at her with big eyes full of pain. “You - we barely talked all summer and you get all tense whenever you’re near me and I just, did I do something wrong?”

Betty can feel her face crumple up as she tries not to cry. “No. No, of course not.”

Archie shuffles closer to her, the toes of his loafers brushing against her oxfords. “Then what is it?”

She stares down at their shoes, guilt making her feel sick to her stomach. “I just… I don’t know how to be around you and not think about it. When I look at you, I… sometimes I feel like I’m back there.”

“Oh.” When she dares to glance up at him he seems so hurt that she tries to back away but he leans in, arms boxing her into the space as he rests his hands against the wall on either side of her head. “I guess when I look at you I still see the girl I proposed to in the second grade.”

She recoils back against the wall. “Don’t you get it? We’re never going to get married, Archie.”

He gives her an incredulous look, like he can’t believe she had the audacity to just say that to him. “I know that! That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” she snaps. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I…” Archie runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign he’s frustrated. “Betty, we never even talked about it” -

“Don’t,” she warns him. “Don’t you dare.”

He closes his eyes in a pained grimace. “I… I just need to know - are we still even friends?”

Her whole body goes cold. “Of course we’re still friends.”

“Are we?” he challenges. “Because you haven’t exactly been acting like it.”

“I’m just having a hard time with everything right now, is that okay?”

“Of course that’s okay! We’re all having a hard time!”

She can feel the color draining from her face. “What do you mean, we?”

“You know what I mean,” he mutters. “Or you would if you’d stop shutting me out.”

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out. “I’m just - this is really hard for me. I know I’ve been a bad friend” -

“You’re not a bad friend,” he interrupts gently. “You - you still want to be friends, right?”

She looks up at him through tear-filled eyes. “Of course I still want to be friends. Do - do you?”

His whole face softens. “Betty Cooper?”

She blinks rapidly; trying to keep her tears from falling. “Yes, Archie?”

“Will you still be my friend even though things are hard right now?”

“I will,” she promises.

“Maybe,” Archie hedges. “Maybe when you look at me you could try seeing that kid in the second grade who needed your help? Because I’m still that kid Betty. I can’t do this without you.”

“Yeah, I can try to do that,” she says, and bursts into tears.

She collapses forward and presses her face into his chest as she fists his white button down in her hands. He smells like Archie, like _home_ , a million little memories getting triggered in response: sidewalk chalk streaks on their palms, the smell of Mary Andrews’ pancakes, sitting at their kitchen table with Archie doing homework, the squeak of their bikes as they rode up and down the block every afternoon the summer after first grade until their parents called them in for dinner.

“Betty.” Archie sounds so helpless, his arms coming around her carefully like if he holds her too tightly she’ll shatter. “Betty.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m sorry, Archie, I’m sorry.”

“What do you need?” he asks in a hoarse voice. “What can I do?”

“I’m fine,” she cries, desperately trying to get herself under control. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“Betty.” He lets go of her and cups her by the shoulders, peeling her off his chest so he can look at her. “Betty, you aren’t okay.”

“Yes, I am,” she snarls, and quickly sidesteps him so he’s forced to drop his arms.

“Betty, come on! Do you really think I haven’t noticed how off you’ve been acting since you came back? You barely eat anything, you won’t talk to anyone about how you’re doing. I don’t know if you’re in denial or you’re so far gone you can’t even see it but I know you, Betty. You’re not okay.”

She wipes her face with a shaking hand and reaches down for her backpack. “Are you done?”

He stares at her and then shakes his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m done.”

“I have to go to English.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” She hesitates anyway, the idea of walking away right now and turning her back on him seems so wrong even though every instinct is telling her to run before it gets worse.

It’s always been a problem for Betty - she never knows when to walk away. It’s not in her nature, she’s too stubborn, she throws her whole heart into things even when the only outcome is for it to break.

Or maybe she’s just a masochist.

He sighs, kicks at the grass. “Are we in a fight now?”

Betty rubs her temples. “I’d really rather not be but you seem pretty mad, so…”

“I’m not mad!” Archie gives her one of those innocent puppy dog looks. “I’m just worried about you.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Have you and Jughead been talking about me?”

“No,” he says, hands in his pockets as he innocently looks up at the sky. “Why would we do that?”

Betty rolls her eyes and reaches up to tighten her ponytail. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“He lived with me all summer, Betty. C’mon, what do you want me to tell you?”

“Whatever, it’s fine. I really do need to go though, I don't want to be late.”

“Okay.” Archie hooks his fingers around the straps of his backpack. “I’ve got Spanish, would it be weird if I walk with you?”

Betty steels herself as the last words Polly said to her in person pop into her head: _be brave._

She closes the space between them, gently bumps her shoulder against his so he knows she isn’t really angry. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, cool.” He gives her a relieved smile that makes her ache. She used to dream about that smile, she used to see roses and diamond rings and a lifetime of love in that smile.

And now all she can see is everything she lost.

*

Betty and Veronica are getting ready for dinner on Friday when Betty’s phone vibrates on her desk. She glances down at the screen and swipes to answer, wondering why the hell Archie is calling her when she’s going to see him in ten minutes anyway.

“Hey,” she answers. “What’s up?”

“Do you still want to go to Pop’s?”

She collapses into her desk chair. “What?”

She’d somehow managed to forget about their annual standing Pop’s date, she and Archie go to Pop’s for dinner on the first Friday of every school year. Their parents used to take them back when they were kids and once they started at Riverdale Prep freshman year the two of them carried on the tradition. It hurts in such a sudden, sharp way, to discover a new thing she’s lost - her and Archie in a booth at Pop’s, young and innocent and the world in front of them open with so many possibilities.

“Betty,” he says softly. “C’mon. I’m trying here.”

She spins around to face the wall, so Veronica can’t see her. “I don’t know…”

“We could make it a group thing,” he suggests tentatively. “I’ll bring Jughead, you bring Veronica?”

What is she supposed to do, tell him she doesn’t know if she can sit through dinner with her friends in her favorite diner without having a screaming fit? “Okay, we can do that.”

He exhales into the phone. “Okay. Meet you in the courtyard in ten?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Okay, cool, see you guys in ten.”

She hangs up and almost immediately her phone rings again. She swipes to answer without looking at the number, assuming it’s Archie, but when she holds the phone to her ear a pre-recorded female voice chirps, “You are receiving a call from” -

The phone falls out of her hand and lands on her desk with a clatter. Veronica jumps up from where she was sitting on the edge of her bed and walks over to Betty. “Hey, are you okay?”

Betty stares down at her phone like it’s going to explode. “Yeah, yeah, that was just Archie.”

“And what did Archie say that made you drop your phone?”

Betty stands up and snatches her phone to make sure the call has disconnected. “He and Jughead want to go to Pop’s for dinner, they invited us.”

“Oh, that’s the burger place, right? My mom told me about it.”

“Yeah. We’re meeting them in like ten minutes, does that work for you?”

“Sure.” Veronica unzips her plaid skirt and steps out of it. “So what’s the dress code? Casual, semi-casual?”

“Casual. I’m just going to go to the bathroom, okay?”

Veronica smiles and starts to unbutton her shirt. “Okay.”

Betty clutches her phone and escapes to the bathroom, locks the door and slides down to the floor. She curls over, pressing her forehead against her knees as she unlocks her phone and pulls up her call history. It’s right there, in black and white: _Blocked._

She shoves her knuckles against her mouth as she swallows a sob and drops her head back, hard enough for it to make a loud _thunk_ against the door, and the shock of pain that floods her skull clears her mind enough that she does it again.

“Betty!” Veronica calls out. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry, I dropped my phone!” Betty clenches her teeth and drags herself off the floor, and stumbles over to the mirror.

She’s too pale, she quickly puts on blush and pink lip gloss, dabs concealer under her eyes and runs a brush through her ponytail before going back into the room, where Veronica has changed into a cap sleeved black minidress with a lace collar and her pearl necklace, paired with knee high black boots with a skinny heel.

“What do you think?” She gives Betty a little spin, her skirt flaring out around her knees.

“Are you sure about the boots? We usually walk.”

Veronica shrugs. “I’m from New York City, Betty, I can handle a little walking.”

“Okay.” Betty grabs a pair of denim shorts with a frayed hem and her old blue Vixens hoodie, _Cooper_ printed across the back in yellow block letters.

Veronica goes into the bathroom to touch up her makeup while Betty changes and comes back out with her hair pushed back with a black velvet headband and a berry painted lip, her cheekbones shimmering with highlighter. She transfers her keys, wallet, and phone to one of her designer handbags while Betty laces up her Keds and slips some cash into her back pocket.

“Ready?” she asks Veronica.

Veronica grabs her sunglasses and slides them over her face. “Yep.”

They go out the back entrance and walk around their dorm to the courtyard, where Archie and Jughead are waiting under an oak tree. Archie’s wearing an old Andrews Construction tee shirt with his jeans and Jughead has on a faded Southside High tee shirt that must have been FP’s once, and the binary of it almost makes Betty laugh, both sides of her town perfectly represented by the two boys in front of her - the golden boy who will step into Jason Blossom’s football legacy and carry it on his shoulders to return Riverdale and The Bulldogs to its former glory, and the son of the town alcoholic, a boy who turned his back on his own legacy with The Serpents and inevitably jail for a chance at a better life.

“Is it just me or do Archie’s arm’s _really_ fill out that shirt?” Veronica murmurs.

Betty squints against the setting sun as they cross the courtyard. “He’s been working out more for football.” 

“I gotta give it to you, your town is weird as hell but at least your boys are hot.” Veronica digs around in her bag and pulls out a pair of mirrored Ray Bans. “Here, put these on, squinting gives you wrinkles.”

Betty takes them without arguing because she’s learning that there’s a difference between Veronica making a request and giving her an order, and it feels so good, to be the recipient of someone’s generosity even if she’s done absolutely nothing to deserve it. Betty didn’t realize how lonely she’d been all summer until she met Veronica, remembered the easy intimacy that comes with living with someone who knows what you look like in the morning, all your weird little quirks that no one else is privy to.

And maybe some part of her finds a weird kind of comfort in someone telling her what to do, being given a clear path to follow. Betty’s grown up in a storm of controlling women, it’s a language she’s fluent in and she knows she used to be a follower, obeyed her mother, her teachers, even fucking Cheryl, back when she’d been so happy to be on the Vixens she would’ve taken any abuse thrown at her just to sit at the side of her cousin’s throne, back before there were paths too dark for even her to follow.

She puts the aviators on and tilts her head at Veronica, who grins and reaches out to straighten them and push them gently up the bridge of Betty’s nose. “There. Now you look perfect.”

“Thanks,” Betty says, a little shy, wondering when she’ll get over her awe at Veronica’s confidence, the way she seems so comfortable with herself and her position as Betty’s new best friend.

She knows it’s a fantasy, this things she has with Veronica. Betty isn’t stupid, when Veronica finds out who Betty really is she’ll probably want to move out and Betty wouldn’t blame her. But she can’t help it, she’s enamored with Veronica, how she seems to have everything but doesn’t flaunt it shamelessly, how she makes Betty feel beautiful, special, worthy of hanging off the arm of an impossibility cool girl like Veronica Lodge.

“Hey,” Archie calls out, holding one hand up in greeting. 

Veronica skips right up to him and slips her hand around his bicep, and Betty feels it like a shockwave through her body, the sight of Veronica’s fingers wrapping around his arm. “I know I’ve only been here a week but I can’t wait for a break from dining hall food.”

Archie glances down at her boots. “It’s about a twenty minute walk, are you going to be okay in those?”

Veronica glances sideways at Betty. “Really, it’s like neither of you have any faith in me.”

Jughead shrugs. “You’re the one wearing torture devices for footwear, they’re just looking out for you.”

“Darling, these are Gianvito Rossi, have some respect.”

He squints at her. “You want me to… respect your boots?”

“Yes,” Veronica says, like it’s obvious.

Betty stifles a laugh. “C’mon, lets go.”

They take the main path through campus all the way past the administration building and walk under the arch of trees up to the school gates. Archie swipes his ID and the gate slides to open for them. They walk through, the gate slowly closing behind them as they congregate on the sidewalk. They’re facing north, the direction of town, there’s no traffic so they all cross the street and walk to the corner, and hook a right to continue towards Pop’s.

Veronica skips along next to Archie, Jughead and Betty following a few paces behind. Archie points things out to Veronica as they pass them, this part of town is mostly trees and a few old residences set back from the street but after a few blocks they hit the edge of downtown. They walk past the gas station, the local coffee shop, Luigi’s, the restaurant of choice for parents taking students out for dinner on family days, before eventually making it to Pop’s. Betty wasn’t prepared for the hit of nostalgia she gets at seeing the glowing neon sign mixed with a rush of stomach twisting anxiety.

She hasn’t been back to Pop’s since That Night.

She startles when Jughead takes her hand to give it a gentle squeeze. He had to work a shift at The Bijou That Night, she and Archie had brought a burger back for him. Betty found it sitting out on her kitchen table the next morning still in its foil wrapper, the meat cold and slimy.

“Okay?” he asks quietly, so Veronica and Archie can’t hear.

She can’t talk or she might scream so she gives him a tight smile and nods, and he lets go of her hand but then his arm comes around her waist and Betty weakens, finds herself leaning sideways into the solid weight of his body. Jughead is lean but he’s strong too, and she hopes he can’t feel the sharp press of her ribs against his side as they walk into Pop’s behind Archie and Veronica.

It’s a Friday night so the diner is busy, full of teenagers from Northside High, a few Betty vaguely recognizes from elementary school, families with young kids out celebrating the start of the weekend with eating out, and a group of nurses at the counter in scrubs who look like they just got off a shift. Veronica takes her sunglasses off and spins around, taking the diner in. Betty wonders what she sees, if instead of something quaint and charming she looks at one of Betty’s favorite places and finds it kitsch, pathetically stuck in the past. 

“Betty, Archie!” Pop Tate is rushing around from behind the counter, wearing his usual uniform, his face open and warm. “And Jughead, the whole gang is back!”

“Hey Pop,” Archie says with a smile. “Got a booth for four open?”

Pop squints at Veronica. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” 

She rolls her shoulders back and holds her hand out to his. “Veronica Lodge. I just started at Riverdale Prep.”

His face lights up in recognition as he shakes Veronica’s hand. “Of course, I thought you looked familiar, you’re Hermione’s girl!”

Veronica smiles. “That’s me.”

“You tell your mother Pop Tate says hello, you hear?” 

Veronica nods. “Yes sir, I will.” 

Pop winks. “C’mon kids, let's get you seated.”

He leads them to an open booth along the windows. “Everyone want the usual? Veronica, what’s your shake flavor?”

Veronica’s eyes gleam as she contemplates. “I can never say no to chocolate.”

“A wise women.” Pop gives them all a broad smile. “It’s so nice to have you kids back. Sit, sit, I’ll have everything right out for you.”

He walks away, stopping at another table to chat with Mayor McCoy, who’s inexplicably having dinner with Sheriff Keller, and Betty drops her head and turns around before she accidentally catches his eye. Archie gets into the far side of the booth and slides down towards the window, and Betty distracts herself by obsessing over which would be worse, sitting next to him or across from him. Her friends make the decision for her, Jughead slides in the opposite side of the booth and Veronica swoops in next to Archie. Betty sits down next to Jughead, takes off Veronica’s sunglasses and tries to give them back but Veronica won’t take them.

“You should keep them, they look better on you anyway,” she says.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Betty protests. It’s one thing to borrow them but she still has a little pride left.

“Betty, it’s fine, they’re just sunnies, I probably have twelve pairs just like them.”

It’s not like Betty’s parents couldn’t afford to buy her things growing up, she wasn’t spoiled but she didn’t want for much either. But she can’t imagine having the kind of wealth Veronica has, where she can casually give away a pair of sunglasses that retail for over a hundred dollars and not even miss them.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

Veronica reaches across the table and flicks Betty’s ponytail. “Seriously, hasn’t anyone given you a gift before? It’s not that big a deal, I just think you look cute in them and want you to have them, okay?”

Betty blushes and folds them up, and slips the aviators into the kangaroo pocket of Polly’s sweatshirt. “Okay. Thanks.”

Veronica beams. “You’re welcome.”

Pop come back with waters for all of them and Betty zones out while Archie explains the mechanics of high school football to Veronica while Jughead offers snarky side comments. Betty can’t tell if Veronica is actually interested in what Archie is saying or if she’s just interested in him, but either way she looks like she’s listening seriously, like she really cares. Betty hasn’t dealt with it yet, the idea of her and Archie seeing other people. It’s inevitable, she knows that, but she also knows it’s going to hurt, and Betty doesn’t know how much more pain she can handle.

“Betty, Archie, Forsythe.” Betty looks up in dread, Mayor McCoy is standing next to their table, Sheriff Keller right next to her. “Welcome back, kids.”

“Thanks,” Archie answers for them.

“You all settling in okay?” Sheriff Keller asks, and Betty can’t help but feel like it’s directed at her.

She takes a deep breath and gives them both a big smile, doing her best to project her old self, perfect Betty Cooper, the golden daughter, an innocent little girl who would never do something like bash a person’s head in until a river of blood spilled out. “Everything’s fine.”

He nods, giving her a sympathetic look that makes her understand that he doesn’t believe her for one second. He was first on the scene That Night, he saw everything she did, he spent ten minutes talking to her on the side on the road where he’d found her and Archie before he was able to convince her to let go of the shovel.

“Have a good night,” Mayer McCoy says, and they all murmur and nod as she and Sheriff Keller leave.

Veronica crosses her arms and gives Jughead a smug look. “ _Forsythe?_ ”

“Don’t even think about calling me that, Park Avenue Princess,” he snaps back.

“Excuse me, I lived in the Dakota!”

“Is that different?”

“Um, yes!”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Terribly sorry to have offended you.”

“Do I really have to call you Jughead?”

“Only if you know what’s good for you.”

Veronica rolls her eyes. “I’m terrified.”

 _Hey,_ Archie mouths at Betty. _Are you okay?_

 _Yeah,_ she mouths back, and shakes the sleeves of Polly’s sweatshirt over her hands so no one can see the way she’s digging her nails into her palms.


	6. The Hermit

Betty wakes up in the dark to Veronica pacing back and forth between their room and the bathroom, already dressed in an outfit Betty finds absolutely nonsensical, given the weather and what she’s seen so far of Veronica’s wardrobe - a black long sleeved turtleneck tucked into a floor-length, dark colored skirt that swishes as Veronica walks. Betty squints at the digital clock on the dresser between their two beds, it’s barely six in the morning. 

“Hey,” she whispers groggily to Veronica. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry,” Veronica murmurs. “I tried not to wake you up.”

“It’s okay.” Betty yawns and rubs her eyes. “Why are you up so early?”

Veronica sits down on the floor to put on a pair of black ballet flats. “My mom is picking me up.”

Betty’s so surprised she sits up in bed. “You’re leaving?”

Veronica briefly looks up to flash Betty a wry smile. “Would you miss me if I was?”

“Wait, you’re not really leaving, right?” Betty hates that her voice shakes. She shouldn’t care, she shouldn’t be attached to a girl she’s known for less than a week.

“Of course not.” Veronica digs a purse out of the back of her closet and unzips it, flips it upside down and lets its contents spill onto the floor. “We’re going to visit Daddy.”

“But it’s Saturday,” Betty comments dumbly. “Family days are Sundays.”

“We can only visit every other weekend, and my mom can’t take me on Sundays because we have to go to church.” Veronica pops up and digs around in her backpack for her wallet and puts it in the purse. “We’re not actually religious or anything but the publicist is trying to get us to present a more repentant, wholesome vibe because it looks good for Daddy, so your girl is stuck going to Mass every week for the foreseeable future.”

Betty stares at her. “Your family has a publicist?”

Veronica shrugs. “Someone has to manage our relationship with the press.”

It should be bizarre, watching a teenage girl casually explain why her family would need a professional to handle how to deal with reporters and what they write, but instead it makes Betty laugh, so hard that she flops halfway out of bed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she cracks up, kicking the covers back and getting up. “It’s just, my family owns the paper here. We _are_ the press.”

As soon as she says it she panics, wondering if that will scare Veronica, make her suspicious, mistrusting, but to her surprise Veronica actually looks relieved. “So you get it. We have to” -

“Control the narrative,” Betty finishes for her.

“Exactly.” Veronica turns sideways to check herself out in the mirror hanging over the back of the bathroom door. “Ugh, I look like a fucking nun.”

“Is this your first time visiting?”

“Is my absolute dread that obvious?” Veronica smooths her hands over her hair.

Betty turns on the lamp sitting on top of their dresser, she knows she isn’t going to be able to fall back asleep after Veronica leaves. “Hey. You look great.”

Veronica actually looks shy. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Betty doesn’t even have to lie, Veronica always looks good.

Veronica slips her arm through the strap of her purse and drops her phone into it. “I just want to look nice for him,” she says quietly.

Betty swallows back the lump in her throat. “You do.”

Veronica gives her a crooked smile. “Thanks.” She glances at the clock and grabs the purse. “Gotta go, my mom’s having a car pick me up.”

“Is your dad close by?”

“A few hours.” 

“Okay.” Betty gives her a hug and Veronica rests her chin on Betty’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Veronica pulls away and tucks her hair behind her ears. “Um, I’m not really sure when I’m coming back today.”

“Okay. Text me if you want me to bring you something back from dinner?”

“You text _me_ if you want me to bring _you_ back something, I’m not missing an opportunity to get takeout.”

“Okay,” Betty agrees. “Deal.”

Veronica kisses Betty’s cheek when she leaves, twirling her keys through her fingers. Betty locks their door behind her and glances back at the clock, it isn’t even six-thirty yet, she has over three hours until the dining hall opens for Saturday brunch. She goes into the bathroom and takes a shower, washes her hair and deep conditions it with the sample Veronica gave her last night. It smells like coconut and brown sugar and vanilla, like sugar cookies on the beach, and Betty closes her eyes, pretending she’s under the ocean instead of the shower, remembering the warmth of Los Angeles sunshine on her fair skin.

She shaves her legs and rinses her hair, gets out of the shower and wraps herself in a towel. She sprays her hair with heat protectant and blow dries it with her round brush the way her mother taught her, stands naked on the bath mat to put on body lotion and examines herself in the mirror. She runs her hands over her clavicle, down her ribcage, across her stomach, cups her hip bones in her palms. It makes her feel a strange sort of calm, everything has changed so much over the past few months but her bones are all still here inside her skin, protecting her fragile heart.

She would weigh herself but she doesn’t have a scale here like she did in the apartment she sublet in Westwood with three other interns at the magazine, girls like Betty, who came to LA hungry for more than an opportunity. They’d make a pot of coffee for breakfast and drink it on the way to the office, split a salad four ways on their lunch break, go out for late night tacos or sushi after work and stuff their faces before going back to the apartment and crashing so they could wake up and do it all again. They’d drive to Venice on the weekends and rollerblade on the boardwalk, eat keto bowls and black bean burgers at Cafe Gratitude, go up to Santa Monica for shopping at the Promenade.

It was the first time Betty had real independence, separated from her family, her friends, safe from the horrors of Riverdale on the other side of the country. She didn’t go back for the trial, she sent a handwritten statement that Sheriff Keller read to the judge after Archie testified. To this day Betty isn’t exactly sure how she was able to get out of it but she thinks her mother leaned hard on Keller, whispered the magic words: _trauma, psychological damage, unfit to testify_. 

It isn’t like they needed her testimony, anyway.

He pled guilty.

She moisturizes her face and goes back to her room, pulls on a pair of athletic shorts and a navy crewneck sweatshirt with _Riverdale Prep_ emblazoned down one sleeve, packs up her backpack and slips on her Keds. The dining hall doesn’t open until ten but the coffee bar opens at seven, so Betty runs down and gets a large coffee with a splash of nonfat milk and takes it to the library. She goes up to the second floor and sets up at a table near the windows that face the quad, she’s the only one here and it’s wonderfully quiet.

It’s a little strange being alone, she realizes that this is the longest she’s been by herself since Veronica showed up last week. Betty sips her coffee and unpacks her book, powers up her laptop and pulls up her study guide, a word document she made of all her classes and assignments. She has to read a chapter for History, annotate the next chapter of Gatsby, and fill out her French worksheet for Monday.

She tackles History first, highlights and takes notes on her laptop, fills out the practice quiz at the back of the chapter before moving on to French. She flies through her worksheet and pick up The Great Gatsby, opens it to the title page just to trace the words _property of Polly Cooper_ written in hot pink gel pen. She flips to Chapter Two and starts reading, realizing after a few pages that Polly has written notes in the margins, tiny looping script Betty can barely read. She spins the book to the side and holds it up close to her face together a closer look. Polly scribbled dates, not notes about the book, dates with acronyms next to it, and Betty holds the book open to take a picture on her phone. She double taps on the photo to zoom in, what she originally thought were annotations are some kind of code.

Her stomach growls and when she looks at the clock on her phone she realizes that it’s past ten. She decides to postpone the mystery of Polly’s notes in favor of breakfast and packs up all her stuff, pockets her phone and tosses her empty coffee cup in the garbage on her way out of the library. It’s brighter than it was when she came in earlier, she digs around in her backpack until she finds the pair of sunglasses Veronica gave her last night and puts them on. She likes it, the way the tinted lenses make her world a little softer, like she has a bit of a barrier between her and reality. She thinks about Veronica as she walks across campus to the dining hall, wondering what she’s doing, if she’s alone in a car or sitting in a prison with her parents. It makes Betty’s stomach hurt just to think about her mom making her do something like that but she also knows it isn’t the same thing, Veronica’s dad is… still her dad. 

Not a ghost, the monster under the bed, the darkness in her heart, the eyes she sees reflecting back at her in the mirror.

When she goes inside the dining hall she gets in line and makes her way over to the parfait station, fills up a bowl with non-fat vanilla yogurt, blueberries, and just the tiniest sprinkle of granola, remembering her mother’s words about empty carbs. She carries her bowl over to her table, all the guys are here already eating pancakes drenched in butter and syrup, the smell making her dizzy as she drops her backpack and sits down next to Kevin.

“Where’s Veronica?” Kevin asks.

“Visiting her dad,” Betty explains, and all three boys duck their heads for a second, like the words have a physical impact.

“Is she gonna be gone all day?” Archie asks.

Betty bites back the _why do you care_ that’s sitting on the tip of her tongue. “I think so.”

“Oh lord,” Kevin murmurs under his breath. “Brace for impact, ladies and gentlemen.”

“What?” Betty asks.

“Cousin!” Cheryl walks up behind Archie and Jughead, wearing a black romper that barely covers her ass, her hair swept up in a high ponytail. “Kev, Archie. Miscreant.”

Jughead snorts. “Morning to you too.”

Cheryl claps her hands together. “The seniors are going to Sweetwater River after brunch to kick off the year. You’re all coming.”

Betty stares at her. “What?”

“It’s tradition. Everyone comes. You know how I feel about tradition, Betty. Everyone’s attending, that means you too.”

Cheryl leans forward and wraps her arms around Archie’s shoulders. “I can count on you to help Reggie grill, can’t I, Archie?”

He shoots Betty a look of pure terror. “Sure.”

“Fabulous,” Cheryl squeals as she lets him go, and winks at Betty. “Wear something cute!”

She stalks away before Betty can respond, leaving her sitting there staring at Archie, who looks a little overwhelmed. 

“Well,” Kevin sighs. “That was…”

Jughead smirks. “Cheryl at her finest.”

“You’re gonna come, right Betty?” Archie asks her.

“I don’t know,” she hedges.

“What, you have to come!” Kevin exclaims. 

“Yeah, Betty,” Archie adds. “It won’t be the same without you.”

She glances over at Jughead, who winks at her. “You really gonna make me suffer through this without you, Cooper?”

She can’t fight the smile that comes over her. “No, I guess not.”

He grins and sticks his fork triumphantly into his stack of pancakes. “That’s what I thought.”


	7. Four of Cups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update was slow, I got sick and had to take a break but I’m feeling better now and happy to be back :)
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter include underage drinking, eating disorder related content, and discussion of visiting an incarcerated family member.

Betty has two bathing suits that she brought to school with her - one is a plain, navy racerback one piece, mother approved, and the other is a pale blue high waisted bikini set printed with bright pink hibiscus that she bought from a store on the boardwalk the first weekend she was in LA. She sits naked on her bathroom floor with both suits in front of her and thinks about what Cheryl would say if she saw Betty show up to the first party of the year in the swimsuit her mother bought her and reluctantly puts on the bikini.

The last time any of her friends have seen her in anything even remotely revealing like this was last spring, in her Vixens uniform, that short pleated skirt she'd loved and her tight shell top with its deep V neckline. She lost some weight over the summer, not so much that she can’t hide it in sweaters and sweatshirts, but in a bikini her whole body is on display, her ribs and her hips and her spine jutting out, laid bare in a way she doesn’t want anyone but her to see.

Maybe last year she would've been proud to have this body, back when she was still her parent's perfect daughter and finally on the Vixens. She would've wanted to show it off, prove to her mother and Cheryl that she could be in control like them, she would’ve worn her weight loss like a badge. But now, with a body she would’ve killed for last year, she doesn’t want anyone to see it. It’s too private, to let herself be exposed like that.

Her pain feels so visceral sometimes, simmering under her skin, and she is afraid of the secrets the sight of her body would reveal against her will, the darkness that hides in the shadow of her bones. It makes her anxious, wondering what people will think when they look at her. Back in LA she was no one, just another skinny blonde teenager people probably took for a wannabe actress but everyone knows who she is here, she can’t hide, she’s the youngest daughter of the most disgraced family in Riverdale and everyone knows it.

“You’re an idiot,” she whispers to herself in the mirror.

Like it matters now, what she looks like. She can lose as much weight as she wants and it won’t change anything. It won’t bring Jason back, it won’t fix her broken family.

But… 

But. 

Maybe. Just maybe…

She can starve the darkness out.

She pulls her shorts back on, picks out an oversized white tee shirt printed with little pink polka dots and slips it over her head, tucking the hem into the waistband of her shorts. She finds her flip flops in the back of her closet next to Veronica’s Tory Burch ballet flats and puts them on, stuffs a beach towel and the sweatshirt she was wearing earlier into her backpack along with a tube of sunscreen.

She locks her room and ends up in the hallway with the rest of the girls, who are lining up so Cheryl can approve their outfits before they leave. Betty rolls her eyes at Ethel, who’s wearing a short sleeved terry cloth dress, the straps of her swimsuit peeking out around the neckline.

“Do you think I look okay?” she whispers to Betty.

“Yeah,” Betty murmurs. “You look super cute.”

She sort of hates herself for talking that way, like she’s doing a brainless Valley girl impression, but Ethel beams. “Really?”

“Totally.” 

“I can’t believe Cheryl invited me.” Ethel sounds awed. “I mean, she said everyone was going, but…”

“Ethel, c’mon, I know she’s Cheryl but you’re still a part of the group.”

Betty’s referring to their original group, the kids that have been here since freshman year, the one year Betty can remember all of them being friends, back before things got complicated by cliques and hormones and social hierarchy and Jason Blossom dying: Betty, Archie, Jughead, Cheryl, Ethel, Josie, Val, Mel, Chuck, Reggie, Kevin, Moose, Midge, Ginger and Tina.

Ethel glances sideways where Cheryl is making Tina do a cartwheel down the hall to test whether her boobs will stay in her bikini top, and lets out a longing sort of sigh. “I know she’s the daughter of Satan, no offense” -

“Non taken,” Betty assures her.

“But she’s so beautiful.” Ethel tugs on the hem of her cover up.

Betty can’t really disagree, her cousin may be cold as a snake but she’s dressed to kill as always. She’s wearing a cherry printed bikini top that’s plainly visible under the black mesh tank dress she’s layered over it and bright red lipstick, Toni Topaz ambling along behind her in a purple and pink plaid one piece with side cutouts and a distressed pair of denim shorts. Cheryl gives a little commentary to each girl as she passes them, sometimes just an eyeroll or a wink, and when she makes it to Ethel she sighs and flicks her finger towards the line of girls.

“Good enough,” Cheryl declares. “Go on. T.T., can you be a doll and get my beach bag for me please?”

Ethel ducks her head and scrambles away after Toni, leaving Betty alone with Cheryl, who puts her hands on her hips and looks Betty up and down. “Color me shocked, did Mommy finally let her baby girl buy a two piece?”

“My mother doesn’t pick out my clothes,” Betty snaps back.

“Your collection of sweaters says otherwise,” Cheryl quips. 

“It’s called a signature look.”

Cheryl snorts. “Are you really trying to explain the concept of having a signature look to _moi?_ Have you completely forgotten who you’re talking to?”

Betty takes the neckline of her shirt and pulls it to the side to show Cheryl that she’s wearing a bikini. “So do I pass or not?”

“Acceptable.” Coming from Cheryl it’s almost a compliment. “Where’s your roomie, darling cousin?”

“She had a family thing.”

“Family days are Sundays.”

Betty shrugs, there’s no way in hell she’s telling Cheryl where Veronica is. Betty doesn’t think Veronica would mind the guys knowing but Betty knows how Cheryl works, every piece of information she gleans about another person is an arrow she can put in her quiver to fire at some later point for maximum damage. “That’s what I said, too.”

“So you’re without your new bestie for the day,” Cheryl concludes. “Well, come on then, the girls are waiting.”

To Betty’s shock Cheryl reaches down and takes Betty by the hand. “Cheryl, what are you doing?”

“You know I can’t resist an entrance, Betty. It’s our first party as seniors. And I want you by my side.”

Betty stares into Cheryl’s heavily lined eyes. “Why?”

Cheryl’s face softens. “Because like it or not, we’re family. And it’s our last year. And...”

“What?” Betty whispers, aware that the rest of the girls are all waiting for them at the top of the stairs, no one’s going to leave without Cheryl.

“I don’t want to hate you,” Cheryl says quietly. “I’ve been so angry for so long that sometimes I feel like I could burn this whole town down and it wouldn’t make me feel better.”

Betty doesn’t say anything because she doesn’t deserve to speak right now, she just stands there and waits for Cheryl to compose herself, which she does in only a few seconds, flashing Betty a bright plastic looking smile. “So, what do you say we put this tedious family feud to the side and celebrate the start of senior year? God knows after everything we’ve been through we deserve to have a little fun.”

It’s too good to be true, this kind of absolution, but what is Betty supposed to do, tell Cheryl she’s full of shit, laugh in her cousin’s face at the idea that she’s really over what happened when Betty knows there’s no way that’s possible?

She can’t be, because Betty isn’t either.

“Okay,” she says cheerfully, and reaches into her backpack with her free hand to get Veronica’s sunglasses and slides them on. “Let’s do this.”

The rest of the senior girls part for them, wordlessly moving back against the wall as Cheryl passes them, holding Betty’s hand so tightly it hurts a little. Betty descends the stairs with Cheryl and walks out into the courtyard hand in hand with her cousin, aware that she’s participating in a show, a statement that Cheryl inexplicably wants to make, that she and Betty are a united front, family.

Or maybe it’s some twisted kind of jealousy thing. Maybe it’s about Veronica, proving to Betty that no matter how enamored she is with the new girl she still belongs to Cheryl, the name on her birth certificate may be Cooper but the Blossom name runs through her blood. Just because some glamazon has declared Betty her new best friend doesn’t mean Cheryl’s going to let her go.

Regardless of the motivation, the message is clear: Betty still belongs to Cheryl. 

Which means, to some extent, that she’s under Cheryl’s protection. No one messes with Cheryl’s girls, not unless they want to face the wrath of Cherry Bombshell. 

Or maybe Betty is completely paranoid and Cheryl’s just trying to be nice, make Betty feel a little included.

 _Yeah_ , she thinks dryly to herself. _That’s it._

Because Cheryl’s known for her altruism.

The senior boys are already outside, waiting for them. Reggie, Moose and Monroe are all holding coolers, no doubt filled with beer and frozen burgers. Archie’s standing with the rest of the seniors on the football team next to Chuck Clayton, who elbows Archie and waves at the girls, a smirk on his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Riverdale’s cutest cousins? Are we ready to party, ladies?” Chuck walks over to Betty and Cheryl and slings an arm over each of their shoulders.

Betty slinks out from under the weight of his arm, looking around for Jughead. She spots him hanging around one of the chess tables with Fangs and Sweetpea, the three of them dressed in dark colored swim trunks and faded tee shirts, Jughead’s beanie present as always even in the warm weather. It makes Betty yearn for her sweatshirt and she has to resist the urge to pull it out of her backpack and slip it on.

“Attention! Seniors!” Cheryl claps her hands together. “It is my honor as Riverdale Prep’s senior class self-appointed social advisor to welcome you to our first official celebration of the year! Now, just a reminder, Senior Sweetwater River Saturday is a Riverdale Prep tradition, I expect all of you to enjoy yourselves!”

Everyone cheers, even Jughead gives Cheryl an ironic little golf clap as everyone gets into a big group and follows Cheryl and Chuck through the courtyard. Betty tries to hang back but Archie won’t let her, he drapes a casual arm around her shoulders and sweeps her along with him and Reggie, Josie, Melody and Val falling in behind them.

They all pass the gazebo and Cheryl stops to kiss the tips of her fingers and press them to the bronze plaque with Jason’s name on it. There’s a moment of silence, out of respect, as Cheryl leans her head against the side of the gazebo, before Toni puts a gentle hand on her shoulder and Cheryl steps back, an expectant look on her face.

One by one every one of the seniors, even Betty, each take a turn leaving a finger-stamped kiss over Jason’s name while Cheryl watches them pay their respects to her dead brother behind her heart shaped sunglasses.

 _I’m so sorry_ , Betty thinks, trailing her fingers across the raised metal letters. _I’m so sorry._

Cheryl and Chuck lead the group into the woods, on the path that will lead them through the forest to the swimming hole near the banks of Sweetwater River. Betty walks quietly next to Archie while he and Reggie talk excitedly about their first game next weekend. Josie’s singing quietly behind them while Valerie and Melody harmonize, and it all feels so, well, like _Riverdale_ , and the feeling of being back home, of really _feeling_ like she’s home, slams into her chest.

Betty turns her head over her shoulder and looks for Jughead, who’s towards the back of the group with Toni, Fangs and Sweetpea. When he catches Betty’s eye he winks and tips his beanie at her, and Betty manages a half smile back before she turns around. Part of her wishes she was back there with him instead up front following behind Cheryl like a good little lapdog but Betty isn’t a Southsider, she doesn’t fit in with his friends.

She knows what they think of her. To them she’s a vanilla milkshake, a cardigan, something preppy and privileged, and yeah, it turned out her family was majorly dysfunctional but that doesn’t make her special, not here, when Archie is pretty much the only one with normal, if divorced, parents. 

Betty curls her arm around Archie’s and rests her head on his shoulder for a moment. He’s solid next to her, sturdy and dependable like always because he’s Archie, and maybe Betty doesn’t deserve his loyalty but she’ll take it anyway.

It takes them about forty-five minutes to get to the swimming hole. When they break through the trees and the tall grass at the edge of the sand Cheryl starts issuing orders, directing the boys to turn some of the bigger rocks into a makeshift bar and having the Vixens lay out towels at the edge of the water.

Archie goes off with Reggie to help him set up the grill and Betty feels a rush of panic at being so easily abandoned, but then Kevin comes up to her and wraps his arm around her waist. “Come on darling, Josie and I are having a dish session.”

Betty leans into him in relief at being rescued from the horror of being alone, and Kevin catches her chin with his index finger, and tilts her face up to kiss her forehead. “Chin up, Cooper.”

“Kev.” Betty pushes her sunglasses up for a moment to rub her eyes. “Do you think it’s weird that I’m here?”

“Betty.” Kevin puts both hands on her shoulders. “Remember fun? That thing we used to have?”

“Maybe,” she answers sullenly.

“Look, yes, I know all of last year was overshadowed by Jason fucking Blossom, God rest his soul, and last summer was an absolute shitstorm of epic proportions but we’re seniors, Betty!” 

“That’s doesn’t change the fact that I’m” -

“You’re Betty Cooper. You’re still you, baby. And we all love you.”

Her bottom lip trembles.”I love you, too.”

“So let’s go have a fun day! All that stuff that happened, it’s over. Right?”

“It’s over,” she breathes, the words shocking her back into the moment.

It’s over. Jason is dead and The Black Hood can’t hurt anyone ever again and Betty is home where she belongs.

“Yes. So can we please go drink hard lemonade with Josie and place bets on who will be the first couple to hook up this year?”

“Yeah.” Betty nods, because she should be grateful that everyone is treating her like they want her here, grateful to be offered this kind of grace.

Kevin high fives her before taking her hand. “C’mon.”

He leads her over where Josie is stretched out on a beach towel with Valerie and Melody, the three of them stripped down to animal print bikinis and the glitter they’ve sprayed on their skin sparkles in the sun. There’s a cooler next to them filled with bottles of hard lemonade and an unopened bag of tortilla chips. Cheryl’s sitting a few towels over with Tina and Ginger, sipping what looks like strawberry flavored vodka right from the bottle.

“Reggie came through, huh?” Kevin winks at Betty and takes a bottle of lemonade out of the cooler. “Betty?”

“Maybe later.” She slips out of her flip flops and sits down next to Josie, sets her backpack down and gets her sunscreen out.

“Hey Betty.” Josie tilts her head to the side and gives Betty a friendly smile before closing her eyes against the glare of the sun. “How’s it going?”

Betty unzips her shorts and shimmies out of them. “Okay.”

Across the rocks Archie is taking off his shirt along with Reggie and Monroe, the three of them looking like they’re preparing to jump into the water. Chuck is walking around passing out cans of beers to the rest of the football team and Jughead is sitting on a rock with a book in one hand, ignoring Toni preparing to dive off the rock next to him, her pink streaked hair tied up in a braided bun. Even Ethel is settling in, rubbing sunscreen on Midge’s back.

Everyone in their senior class is here aside from Veronica and also Evelyn (not surprising, Betty’s never heard her speak to anyone or willingly socialize), all together but also self-separating into their usual social groups: the football players, the cheerleaders, the Southsiders, the artsy kids, and Betty, who doesn’t fit in anywhere anymore.

Betty feels a rush of longing for Veronica as she methodically applies sunscreen to her arms. She loves her friends, really, has a fondness for everyone here, except for Chuck maybe, because he’s Chuck, but she’s grown up with these kids, has a shared history and nostalgia. She should feel comfortable here, in a place she’s been going to all her life, with people she’s known for a long time, some of them since elementary school, but she feels like an outsider anyway, a pity invite, someone who doesn’t really belong here.

It makes her miss Veronica, the way the other girl makes Betty feel like she’s a part of something, like she’s special, like she’s understood. When she’s with Veronica she doesn’t feel like she’s all alone, she isn’t an ex-cheerleader or the daughter of a monster or the younger sister of a crazy girl, she’s just Betty.

“Archie sure looks like he’s been getting ready for the game next week,” Josie comments.

Betty looks over at the water, where Archie’s standing waist-deep throwing a football to Monroe, his naked chest glistening. Kevin takes a long drink from his bottle of lemonade and whistles. “Someone’s been hitting the gym.”

Betty looks away, she doesn’t want to think about how good Archie looks, a sour taste rising up the back of her throat. She isn’t in love with him and she doesn’t have a hopeless crush on him anymore either but it still stings all the same.

He looks so happy. 

“Actually Kev, I think I will have a drink,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant.

Kevin grins and reaches over Josie to grab a bottle and pass it to Betty. “That’s the spirit!”

She forces herself not to try to find the nutritional content in the bottle, it doesn’t matter anyway, alcohol is all sugar but Betty needs it right now, needs that warmth, that distraction, something to occupy herself.

The first sip goes down cool and sweet, a little tangy aftertaste lingering when she swallows. Betty stretches out her legs and leans back, letting the sun beat down on her. A few towels away Cheryl holds up her own bottle and winks at Betty, and Betty tips her lemonade at her cousin before taking another drink. 

“I think I’m going to swim.” Val gets up, the toned muscles in her legs flexing. “Anyone interested?”

“I’ll go with you.” Melody stands up and she and Val wade into the water.

Betty curls forward and rests her chin on her knees, hot in her tee shirt but too self conscious to take it off. Next to her Josie sits up and stretches, cracks open a bottle of water and takes a few sips. “Hey Betty, what’s up with you and Archie?”

Betty can feel Kevin still beside her. “What do you mean?” she asks.

“Well, toward the end of last year it seemed like you two were getting close, but then you ran off to LA and were gone all summer.”

“Betty had an internship,” Kevin says quickly.

“I’m just saying, he and Val have been hanging around the music room a lot. Is he single?”

“Yeah,” Betty answers tightly. “We both are.”

“So you wouldn’t mind if she went for it?” Josie asks. “Val?”

Betty tips her head back and takes a few gulps of her drink. “Archie’s free to date whoever he wants.”

“Okay, but more importantly, who do you have your eye on?” Kevin asks Josie, and the conversation swiftly turns to Josie and Kevin analyzing every single guy in their class and rating them by datability.

Betty feels a wave of fatigue roll through her and she remembers how early she woke up this morning. She finishes her drink and lays out on her back, takes off Veronica’s sunglasses and shuts her eyes. It doesn’t take her long to drift off, vaguely aware of the sounds of her friends laughing and splashing around in the water that shifts into white noise as she falls asleep. 

When she wakes up the sun is much lower in the sky and she’s the only one who’s still sitting on the towels. She sits up and rubs her eyes, squinting as Chuck walks out of the water and across the sand to stand at the edge of her towel, beads of water dripping down his perfect body.

“What are you doing here all alone?” he asks her, giving her a sharp smile.

“Nothing,” she mutters.

“Why don’t you come swimming with everyone?”

Betty hunches over, she doesn’t like the way he’s looking at her. “No thanks.”

“Oh come on, the water’s great.”

“I said no thank you,” she says firmly.

“Aw, c’mon.” Chuck gets right in her space, crouching down in front of her so he’s the only thing she can see. “I thought you Cooper girls like to have fun.”

He reaches out and scoops Betty up so fast she can’t fight back, and flips her over his shoulder.

“Chuck!” she shrieks. “Put me down!”

“Relax!” he yells back, ignoring her flailing legs as he starts to jog towards the water.

“Stop!” Betty shouts. “No, Chuck, don’t!”

He completely ignores her and tosses her into the water. Betty slips under for a moment but it isn’t deep and it only takes her a few seconds to find the bottom and she springs up through the surface, her soaked ponytail slapping against the back of her neck.

Chuck gives her a smarmy grin as he stares at her chest. “Looking good, Betty.”

When she glanced down she realizes that her shirt turns completely sheer when wet and the outline of her chest is very visible. Rage floods her body until it’s all she can feel, her vision going red with fury; her hand flies back like she’s about to slap him but then Betty sees Archie a few feet away, watching her with the same look of horror on his face that he had That Night when she lifted the shovel above her head, and she slices her arm through the water so Chuck gets splashed right in the face.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she screams, and sloshes through the water until she meets the shore.

She runs up to her stuff and sinks to her knees, whips her tee shirt off and pulls her towel out of her backpack, wraps it tightly around herself, jams her feet into her flip flops and storms off. She walks quickly towards the trees, one hand pressed against her mouth as a cold sweat breaks over her skin. Betty makes it past the tree line before she has to hunch over, gagging, but nothing comes up except bile.

“God Betty, haven’t you heard? Bulimia is so ‘87.”

When Betty stands up and turns around Cheryl’s standing there in her skimpy cherry print bikini. “I’m not in the mood to trade movie quotes right now, Cheryl.”

“Come on.” Cheryl walks right over to her and readjusts Betty’s towel for her so her cleavage is covered. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t want to go back.” Betty tries to pull away but Cheryl’s red painted nails dig into her arm.

“Don’t be silly! We haven’t even grilled yet.”

“Cheryl, I just want to go back to school, take a shower and get into my bed.”

Cheryl pulls on Betty’s arm. “Too bad. You owe me this, you’re staying.”

“I owe you my attendance at your stupid party, really?”

“No.” Cheryl whirls around and Betty cowers at the look on her face. “You owe me for leaving me here for an entire summer to take care of my family by _myself._ I needed you, Betty” -

“You _needed_ me? You dropped me from the Vixens” -

“I had to! I had to look out for my girls on the squad! How would it look if a member of our precious Vixens was the daughter of a…”

“What’s the matter?” Betty spits. “Can’t say it?”

Cheryl looks a little ashamed of herself but she still has Betty by the arm. “So what. You’re going to let him ruin senior year for you on top of all the damage he’s already done?”

Betty blinks at her, feeling clammy in her damp suit. “I didn’t really think about it like that.”

Cheryl’s grip on her arm loosens. “After Jason died I thought I’d never enjoy anything ever again. But J.J. wouldn’t want that for me. And I don’t want that for you either. So let’s just go back to the party, okay? Ignore Chuck, everyone knows he’s an idiot. Please, Betty? For me?”

“Okay,” she acquiesces, if a little sullenly, and lets Cheryl take her back over to the towels.

Some of the girls have come out of the water, throwing layers over their suits now that the sun’s about to go down and it’s starting to cool off. Betty gets her sweatshirt out of her backpack and pulls it on, watching as Archie climbs out of the river and walks over to the rocks with some of the other football players. She’s lost track of Jughead and she’s surprised by the flash of panic it gives her, not being able to see him. They don’t have the same kind of history as her and Archie but he’s one of the only people who always seems to show up when she needs him, and it makes her feel anxious to not know where he is.

“I’m going to go supervise the boys.” Cheryl puts her coverup back on and reaches for Betty. “Betty, why don’t you come help?”

“Okay.” Betty tugs on her shorts and meekly follows Cheryl past the rocks over to a sandy patch where Reggie and Archie have set up a grill and Toni is spreading out picnic blankets.

“T.T.,” Cheryl calls out. “Betty so generously offered to help out, can we find something for her to do?”

Toni tilts her head at a tote bag sitting at the edge of the blanket. “Sure, there’s more stuff to unpack.”

Betty opens up packages of paper plates, plastic forks and knives, paper napkins, spreads out everything on the foldable plastic table Moose sets up for her. Cheryl unpacks a cooler next to her, laying out bottles of mustard and ketchup, pickles, lettuce and tomato slices, bags of potato chips and store bought chocolate chip cookies.

Betty’s stomach cramps looking at all the food. She gets a bottle of water from one of the coolers sitting under the table and twists off the cap, takes a few sips and tries not to think about how good a burger would taste. It’s hard not to though, Reggie and Archie start grilling the patties and everyone wanders over, grabbing plates and helping themselves to chips as they form a loose line to get burgers.

Some of the tension in her body relaxes when she sees Jughead come up and grab a plate, a notebook under one arm. “I’m starving,” he says cheerfully.

“Where’d you go?” she asks, and then immediately feels embarrassed for asking.

“Oh, I uh, went off to write for awhile, when inspiration strikes, you know.” His face wrinkles in concern. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was going, you were sleeping, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“It’s fine.” Betty gives him a gentle smile to show him she understands. “This is a nice place to write.”

“Yeah. It is.” He smiles back at her and they have one of those moments when it feels like time suspends, just a bit, before he gets in line behind Toni.

Archie and Reggie are each sipping a beer while they flip burgers and hand them out as they’re ready. Once everyone’s got a burger Betty wanders off to find a spot on one of the blankets but Archie catches her gently by the wrist before she can get too far.

“Hey, I made you this.” He holds out a paper plate to her with a burger on it made just the way she likes.

“I’m not hungry,” she says automatically.

Archie’s face falls. “Betty. Please.”

She breathes through the burn in her stomach as she looks at his face, thinking about what he said to her the other day. 

_Maybe when you look at me you could try seeing that kid in the second grade who needed your help?_

“Thank you,” she says softly, and takes the plate from him.

Archie lets out a relieved sounding sigh and grabs a plate with another burger on it from the table. “No problem. Come on, let’s go sit.”

He leads her over to one the blankets where Cheryl’s sitting with Toni, Reggie, Kevin, Jughead and Ethel. To Betty’s relief Chuck is sitting on the farthest blanket from them, with the rest of the Vixens and football players. Josie, Val and Mel are all sitting on a picnic blanket near the fire pit, Josie’s song book spread out by her feet and the rest of the Southside kids are eating on the rocks.

Archie plops down next to Reggie and Betty sits down on his other side, between Archie and Jughead, who’s halfway through his first burger. Jughead casually slings his left arm around her shoulders and Betty scoots a little closer to him.

“Hey, Cooper.” Jughead gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You doing okay?”

Betty crosses her legs and sets her plate on her lap. “I’m fine, Jug.”

“Hey.” When she looks at him Jughead narrows his eyes at her. “You sure?”

“Yeah.” Betty picks up her burger and takes a tentative bite.

Archie must be watching her out of the corner of his eyes. “How’s your burger?”

Betty chews, swallows, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “It’s good Arch, thanks.”

Eating it is almost worth it just for the smile he gives her.

When everyone is finished eating, even Betty, they all clean up and Josie brings over a guitar. Archie tunes it while Reggie and Moose get a fire going and Cheryl and Toni unpack a grocery bag full of graham crackers, marshmallows, Hershey bars and sticks to make s’mores. They all arrange the blankets around the fire pit and Cheryl and Toni pass everything for s’mores around. Josie starts to sing while Archie plays for her, harmonizing along with Val and Mel as they all take turns getting close enough to the pit to cook their marshmallows.

The smell of melted chocolate and burned sugar is too delicious to resist, and Betty eats a s’more next to Jughead, reveling in the gooey mess of it, licking her fingers clean when she’s done. It’s dark out but there’s plenty of light from the fire and the lanterns set up around the blankets and right now, surrounded by her friends, warm and safe, with a full stomach to boot, Betty feels like everything might be okay.

*

By the time they all get back to the dorms that night it’s almost ten. They have a curfew but Laurie and Charles, the boy’s dorm parent, are notoriously lax about stuff like that, as long as they don’t do anything flagrantly against the roles, like stay out all night or overdose on drugs or have loud sex, they’re pretty much left alone to do whatever they want.

Betty hugs Archie, Jughead and Kevin all goodnight and follows the rest of the senior girls inside their dorm and up the stairs to the second floor. When Betty unlocks her door and goes into her room Veronica’s sitting on her bed with wet hair, wearing a gorgeous cream and red floral print silk pajama set.

“Hey!” Betty drops her backpack on the floor and rushes over to Veronica. “How are you doing, how did everything go?”

“I’m exhausted.” Veronica reaches up and fiddles with one of her pearl earrings. “I got more parental time than any one teenager should have to endure in a single day. But I think my mom felt bad for me so we stopped in the city on the way back for dinner, and I brought back dessert!”

Veronica reaches over and picks up a paper bag on the dresser with the name _Pastis_ printed on it. “Come sit, we can share it.”

Betty kicks off her flip flops and sinks down on the bed, helpless at the hopeful expression on Veronica’s face, like it would absolutely crush her to be rejected. Veronica withdraws a plastic container and two forks, and passes one to Betty.

“Chocolate mousse,” Veronica announces with a flourish as she pops open the lid. “My mom says there’s nothing chocolate can’t make better.”

Betty gives her a tight smile as she picks up the fork, wondering how the hell she's going to eat this on top of the burger and the s’more she ate earlier while Archie pretended not to watch her. She can’t do it, it’s too much, she’ll be up all night buzzing with anxiety if she eats it. But how can she let Veronica down, after the kind of day she’s had, when Betty got to lay out in the sun and have fun with her friends? 

Besides, she thinks with a sudden, sick resolve, she just has to eat it, she doesn’t have to keep it down. She picks up the fork and takes a tiny bite, and tries not to moan at how incredible it is.

Veronica gives her a knowing smile. “Good, right?”

“Yeah,” Betty agrees hollowly.

“So what did you do today?”

“Some of us went down to the swimming hole by Sweetwater River, it’s kind of a senior tradition.”

“Ooo, like a party?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Ugh, I missed the first party of the year?” Veronica groans. “This sucks!”

“It’s okay, you didn’t really miss anything. It was low key, we just went swimming and grilled.”

“Did you kiss anyone?”

“No!” Betty exclaims, her cheeks heating.

“Oh my god, look at you!” Veronica giggles. “You have kissed someone before though, right?”

Betty almost drops her fork. “Of course I have.”

“So do you have a crush on any of the guys? You’re single, right?”

“Um, I haven’t really thought about it.”

Veronica gives her a look like she doesn’t believe Betty at all. “Seriously? You don’t like anyone right now?”

”I don’t know.” Betty shrugs. “It’s our last year of school and then we’re all going off to college, I don’t really see the point in starting a relationship with someone now anyway.”

It’s not exactly the truth, but is she supposed to tell Veronica, that Betty’s damaged goods, that the only boy she thought she’d ever love will never be her boyfriend, that Betty can’t imagine another person being able to love her after everything she’s done?

“Wow Betty, I have to admit, I got you wrong.” Veronica tilts her head, tapping her fork against her lips. “I had you pegged as a hopeless romantic.”

“What about you?” Betty deflects. “Any guy in particular catch your eye yet?”

“I wouldn’t say no to anyone in a football jersey,” Veronica says with a grin. “For starters.”

“Their first game is Friday,” Betty tells her. “Do you want to go with me? It’s a home game.”

“Is there going to be a dance, too? Do you guys have homecoming?”

“Yeah, we do, but um, seniors don’t go.”

Veronica looks disappointed. “Why not?”

Betty gives Veronica a sly smile. “You’ll see.”

Veronica’s eyes widen. “Excuse me, what does that mean?”

“We have our own homecoming. It's a senior tradition, we’re kind of big on that here.”

“Is it a party?” Veronica squeals. “Tell me it’s a party!”

“It’s a party,” Betty confirms.

“Yes!” Veronica cheers. “Finally, I’m gonna get to have some real fun.”

Betty licks her fork clean and drops it into the container. “I should take a shower before I go to bed, I was swimming earlier.”

“For sure. Hey, you should use my shampoo, it’s super clarifying. God knows what’s in that water.” Veronica shudders.

It makes Betty want to cry, how generous Veronica is, like Betty deserves this, to be showered with chocolate and expensive shampoo. Or maybe that’s just what it’s like to be wealthy, it must be easier to be casually giving when you already have everything you could ever need. 

But Betty thinks it’s more just how Veronica is, she’s the kind of girl who likes to share, who bonds over desserts and beauty products. She’s probably an only child too, Betty realizes, Veronica’s never mentioned a sibling, and maybe Betty is filling some kind of role for her, giving Veronica the chance to experience what it’s like to have something like a sister.

“Thanks,” Betty murmurs, and escapes to the bathroom.

She locks the door and turns on the fan, takes all her clothes off and stuffs them into the hamper. She reaches into the shower and turns the water on so Veronica won’t hear her, and goes over to the sink to wash her hands. She stares at herself in the mirror, psyching herself up to do something she hates but feels like she needs to do all the same. She takes a few deep breaths and reminds herself that she’ll feel better when she’s done, and leans over the toilet.

*

Betty wakes up in the middle of the night to the sound of Veronica sobbing. She blinks her eyes open in the dark and looks around, Veronica’s sitting up in bed crying into her hands, like she’s trying not to wake Betty up. Betty gets out of her bed, grabs the box of tissues from the dresser, and climbs up onto the mattress next to Veronica.

She wordlessly hands Veronica a tissue and she takes it, dabbing it carefully under her eyes. “Thanks,” she sniffs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Betty asks softly.

“No,” Veronica says, but then she lays her head on Betty’s shoulder. “Oh Betty, it was awful! Seeing Daddy that way, being treated like that… I know what everyone thinks of him, but…”

“But he’s still your dad.”

“Yeah,” Veronica cries. “And I still love him.”

“Of course you love him,” Betty says thickly. “Whatever he’s done, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s your dad.”

Veronica looks up at Betty, her beautiful dark eyes shimmering with tears. “Do you think that makes me a bad person?”

Betty doesn’t know what makes her do it but she cups Veronica’s face in her hands so she can wipe her tears away for her. “No. I think it means you have a really big heart.”


	8. Three of Swords

“Can you look at this for me?” Betty asks Jughead on Wednesday afternoon while they're working on The Blue and Gold. 

She slides her phone across the desk to him, opened to the picture of Polly‘s strange notes in her copy of The Great Gatsby. He picks it up and squints, brow furrowing. “I thought you were taking a break from investigating stories, Cooper.”

“Yeah, well clearly that didn’t last.”

“Okay then. What am I looking at?”

“I found it in one of Polly’s books. At first I thought they were notes but they don’t make any sense.”

“What book?”

“Gatsby.”

“Do you have it on you?”

Betty digs it out of her backpack and hands it over. He passes her phone back and picks up the book, flips through the first few pages and squints. “What are these, dates?”

“The numbers?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know.”

“What else would they be?”

“I can’t figure out what the letters mean, either.”

He shrugs and flips through a few more pages. “Names? Places?”

“Why would Polly have something like that in one of her books?”

He gives her a cautious look. “I’m assuming asking her is out of the question.”

Betty bristles. “And how exactly would you suggest I do that, given the circumstances?”

He shuts the books and reaches over to lay his hand over hers. “Hey. If you think it’s important”-

“No, it’s stupid.” She pulls her hand out from under his and takes her sister’s book back, and shoves it into her backpack. “Forget I said anything.”

“Betty, hey. Look, maybe it was a code.”

Betty shakes her head. “I was the one into codes, not Polly.”

He drums his fingers on the desk. “That’s sort of my point.”

“What do you mean?”

Jughead twists his mouth to the side, looking at her with not pity exactly, but like he’s sad for her. “Maybe this was her way of trying to talk to you.”

*

Everyone in the dining hall is hyped up for the first home game on Friday night. Archie and the rest of the team come to dinner dressed in their jerseys, the Vixens in their matching cheer outfits. Betty feels a pang of longing for her old uniform, the pride she felt when she walked out in that skirt, her white shoes, arm in arm with her teammates, like she belonged to something special.

Archie is so excited he hardly eats anything, practically bouncing in his seat next to Jughead, who’s tearing apart his lasagna with his fork. Betty picks at a spinach salad, the football game is the first school function of the year and she’s been fighting a wave of anxiety all day at the idea of sitting up in the stands with all those people. Last year she sat in the first row with the other Vixens and cheered on the sidelines but she doesn’t have the anonymity of being another cheerleader in a sea of blue and yellow, Polly’s cute little sister, a girl people noticed but never paid much attention to.

At least she’ll have friends to sit with, she tries to mentally assure herself, glancing sideways at Veronica, who’s eating a bowl of mushroom risotto and listening intently to Archie explain football terminology to her. Betty can’t tell if Veronica is genuinely interested in football or if she’s flirting, but she can tell by the way Archie is grinning and eagerly answering all her questions that he thinks she’s flirting. 

Betty doesn’t want to deal with it, the idea of Veronica and Archie together. It makes sense of course, at least logically, that they would be interested in each other. They’re both beautiful and single, they have some classes and friends in common already and it’s obvious Veronica’s into him, at least physically. Betty has a feeling that if she explained her past with Archie to Veronica, their shared history, that the other girl would back off, find another football player to flirt with, but that would mean telling Veronica what happened to them, and that isn’t something Betty is ready to do.

When dinner’s over Archie catches her right outside the dining hall, his hand warm on her wrist. “Hey, I have to go warm up soon, but do you have a second?”

Betty looks back at Veronica, who gives her a reassuring smile and loops her arm through Kevin’s. “I’ll meet you in our room?”

“Okay,” Betty agrees, grateful for Veronica’s tact, that she seems to instinctively know when other people need moments alone and doesn’t take it personally.

Veronica skips away with Kevin, leaving Betty and Archie alone. Betty curls her fingers over the edges of the sleeves of her cardigan, wondering what Archie wants. “What’s up Arch?”

He unzips his backpack, digs around and pulls out a plastic shopping bag. “Um, I didn’t know if you had something to wear to the game since you’re not cheering this year, and I figured Veronica doesn’t have any Riverdale shirts yet so I thought maybe you guys could wear these to the game. I mean, if you want to.”

Betty peeks into the bag and her throat closes up, inside are two of Archie’s old football jerseys. “Archie,” she murmurs. “Thanks, this was really sweet of you.”

Archie shrugs, a bashful smile on his face. “I know everyone likes to dress up.”

Betty loops the plastic bag handles around her wrist and reaches up to hug him. “Thank you.”

He gives her a little squeeze before letting her go. “I should run, we’re gonna warm up soon.”

“Hey.” Betty pats his shoulder. “You’re gonna kill it tonight.”

Archie bounces on the balls of his toes. “You walking over with Veronica?”

“Yeah, Jug said he’d save us seats.”

“Cool.” Archie rolls his shoulders back. “Okay, I’ll see you on the field.”

“I’ll be there,” she promises.

Archie runs off towards the north side of campus and Betty walks to her dorm, lets herself in and hurries up to her room. She walks in to Veronica lying on her back on her bed in a matching plum satin bra and panty set, taking selfies of herself on her phone.

“Hey,” Veronica says, dropping her phone down on the bed. “What’s that?”

Betty dangles the bag. “Wanna dress up for the game?”

Veronica’s eyes light up. “Um, yes, yes I do, what’ve you got?”

“Archie gave us jerseys to wear.” Betty pulls one out and tosses it to Veronica. “Rah rah, go Bulldogs.”

Veronica tugs it over her head and pulls her arms through it, smooths out the fabric and hops off her bed, posing with one hand on her hip. “How do I look?”

Betty snorts. “Like you need pants.”

She turns her back to Veronica to get undressed and puts on the other jersey. It feels good to wear something that belongs to Archie, like she has a layer of protection on. She puts on her denim cutoffs and tucks the jersey into the waistband, and when she turns back around Veronica is yanking up a pair of tiny black bike shorts that just cover her ass cheeks.

She grins and slings one arm around Betty’s shoulders. “Do we look adorable or what?”

“Do you want to do your makeup with me?” Betty offers shyly. “It’s kind of a thing here, the girls like to be Spirit themed.”

Veronica raises an eyebrow. “Spirit themed?”

Betty takes Veronica to the bathroom and kneels down on the floor, takes the cosmetics case full of her cheer makeup out from under the sink, unzips it, and dumps everything out onto the floor.

Veronica’s mouth drops open as she starts to sort through the different colored pots of glitter. “Betty Cooper, you’ve been holding out on me!”

“I guess I haven’t had a reason to use any of this stuff lately.”

Veronica picks up a pack of stick-on crystals. “Do you miss it?”

“Cheer?”

Veronica nods, picking up a tube of highlighter and smudging it over the back of her hand. “Yeah.”

“Sometimes,” Betty admits.

Veronica runs her finger over a pot of silver glitter and grins at Betty. “C’mon, I’ll do your makeup.”

Veronica sits Betty on the closed toilet lid and smooths a few stray hairs back from her face. “Okay girl, close your eyes. When I’m done with you you’re going to look so hot, you don’t even know.”

Betty obeys and after a moment Veronica’s fingers cup against her jaw as she angles Betty’s head back. Eyeshadow is applied to her eyelids and Betty obediently blinks as Veronica puts mascara on her. Veronica works on the rest of her face, her fingers gentle but firm, and Betty sits there quietly until she’s done, letting Veronica do whatever she wants.

“Look in the mirror,” Veronica squeals. “You look amazing!”

Betty walks over to the sink and checks out her reflection: her eyelids are covered in silver glitter, her lashes are thick and dramatically dark, iridescent blue stars are pasted over her cheekbones and her lips are painted a shimmery pale pink.

“I love it,” Betty breathes. She looks like someone else, like the kind of girl she used to _pretend_ to be when she was on the Vixens last year - someone confident, bold, not afraid to stand out. A girl who isn’t afraid. “Thank you.”

“My turn!” Veronica announces, smiling as she sits down. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Obviously you can’t go wrong, not with this kind of bone structure.”

Betty sorts through her makeup and picks up a pack of midnight blue stick-on crystals. She lines Veronica’s eyes with them and does her mascara, taps glittery gold highlighter over her cheekbones, and applies metallic berry gloss to her lips.

“Done,” Betty says, and watches Veronica skip over to the mirror and grin.

“Sexy,” she declares. “Are you gonna do your hair?”

“Yeah. I have some bows, if you want one.”

Betty gets another case from under the sink and pulls out a pack of oversized blue satin bows. Veronica gives herself two French braids and ties each one off with a bow while Betty re-does her ponytail so it sits higher on her head and quickly curls it for some bounce before clipping a bow right in the front.

“Oh my god, get over here, we need a selfie,” Veronica declares. 

She and Betty press their cheeks together and Veronica takes a few pictures on her phone. “Shall we?”

Betty shoves her student ID and her phone in the back pocket of her shorts and puts on her Keds while Veronica puts her stuff in a tiny bag with a studded leather strap and puts on a pair of white Adidas. Betty grabs her keys and locks the door when they leave and she and Veronica join the throng of students walking across campus to the football field. It’s starting to get dark out but the path is brightly lit, and it’s impossible to feel afraid like this with Veronica skipping along right next to Betty, her hand in Betty’s back pocket.

By the time they get to the football field Betty’s managed to gather some modicum of confidence, wearing Archie’s jersey and flaunting Veronica’s friendship like a shield, her face covered in glitter. She spots Jughead sitting up in the fifth row of the bleachers next to Toni, who’s wearing her hair in two high pigtails secured with gold hair bands, her cheekbones shimmering with metallic highlighter, and Jughead is dressed down in a beat up pair of jeans and a grey Bulldogs tee shirt under his denim jacket with the Sherpa lining, fiddling with his camera. Betty and Veronica climb the bleachers until they reach them, and Toni squeezes down so Betty and Veronica can sit in between her and Jughead.

Toni pulls a flask out of the pocket of her denim miniskirt and passes it to Veronica. “Go Bulldogs.”

Veronica grins and takes a sip of whatever’s in the flask, and tilts it toward Betty.

“No thanks,” Betty demures, and takes the notebook Jughead passes to her without missing a beat so she can scribble notes to type up later when they write their article on the game for the next issue of the Blue and Gold.

The Vixens come out onto the field, shaking their blue and yellow pom poms and screaming out for the Bulldogs. The football team runs out onto the field after them, led by Archie and Chuck, and everyone in the bleachers shout and cheer. The Vixens run up and down the sidelines, leading the crowd in a cheer while the team huddles up with Coach Clayton before getting into their positions on the field.

Veronica and Toni pass Toni’s flask back and forth through the first half of the game while Jughead takes photos and Betty takes notes on all the plays and keeps track of the score. By halftime the Bulldogs hold the lead and Cheryl leads the Vixens through their halftime performance, executing a perfect back layout at the end before jumping up in the air and waving her pom poms, red painted lips smiling at everyone in the stands. 

“Not that I’m not loving the chance to get the full, small town high school experience,” Veronica shouts over the roar of the crowd as the game starts back up. “But when does the party start?”

Betty laughs. “Let them win the game first.”

The Bulldogs manage to keep their lead through the second half and in the last five minutes of the game Archie throws a pass to Chuck and he makes a touchdown. The crowd screams for them and Archie waves up to the stands, smiling as he slaps Chuck on the shoulder. When the buzzer goes off and The Bulldogs officially win everyone on the field goes crazy, half the Vixens run out to kiss their boyfriends and Cheryl is hoisted onto Chuck and Reggie’s shoulders and paraded down the sidelines.

When the people in the stands start to leave Betty follows Jughead down to the field, reaching back to hold Veronica’s hand so they don’t get separated.

“Boy’s dorm?” Betty checks with Jughead, and when he nods she tugs on Veronica’s hand.

“Come on, the party’s at the boys dorm.”

“What about your dorm parent?” Veronica asks Jughead.

Jughead grins. “Charles conveniently went out tonight. Won’t be back until _very_ late.”

Veronica takes a swig from Toni’s flask. “What a delightful coincidence.”

They troop back along campus along with the other students towards the dorms. Betty starts shivering in the cool night air and Jughead slips his jacket off and wraps it over her shoulders. She glances sideways at him and he winks, and tugs on the lapels for her.

“Better?” he asks knowingly.

“Thanks.” Betty bumps her shoulder against him and Jughead reaches down to link their pinkies together.

When they get to the boys dorm they walk around to the far side where Moose is standing in front of the back door. “Everyone coming in gets a stamp. Now, may I remind you of our official school policy, which clearly states that there is a zero tolerance policy towards underage drinking, especially on campus. For that reason I ask that you refrain from taking any photography with drinks in view and no posting to your socials, are we in agreement, ladies?”

Jughead rolls his eyes. “Just get on with it already, man, they get it.”

They all get a blue star stamped over the backs of their hands and are escorted up the stairs to the senior boys floor. They all turn to Jughead, who shrugs and holds up his camera. “I have to drop this off in my room, drinks are in the common room, meet you there?”

Betty hands his jacket back to him. “Okay.”

She walks with Veronica and Toni down the hall to the boys common room. Chuck is standing at the far end of the room by a folding table playing makeshift bartender, there are bottles of vodka and whiskey and six different kinds of mixers spread out in front of him. Half the football team and the Vixens are already here, drinking out of red solo cups and swaying to the music playing from the speakers.

“Now this is what I’ve been waiting for. Come on ladies, mommy needs a real drink.” Veronica takes Betty and Toni by their hands and tugs them across the room to the bar.

Chuck grins at them. “Ladies. How can I be of service?”

“Three screwdrivers,” Veronica demands.

Chuck’s eyes rove up and down Veronica’s legs. “Yes ma’am.”

Betty watches him pour two shots of vodka into each cup and fill them up the rest of the way with orange juice. They each take their cup and Veronica holds hers out to them.

“Cheers!” she squeals, and they tap their cups together before taking a sip.

“Betty!” Archie sticks his head into the common room. “Come on, we’re drinking in my room.”

Toni and Veronica follow Betty and Archie down the hallway to the room he shares with Munroe. Jughead is already here, sitting in the chair between the two beds when they get inside, Cheryl is perched on the far bed next to Josie, who’s wearing a sparkly blue tank top tucked into her skinny jeans and gold cat ears framing her bun, and Kevin, both of them holding red cups and laughing about something. Reggie’s on the other bed, stripped down to jeans and an undershirt, his hair wet like he just got out of the shower.

“Hey guys.” Archie picks a cup up off his desk and walks down to sit next to Reggie.

Veronica quickly sits down on his other side and Toni walks over to squeeze in next to Cheryl. Betty hovers, unsure if she should sit on the floor or ask Veronica to make a little room for her but then Jughead sits up and pats the seat of the chair he’s in.

“You willing to share, Cooper?”

She crosses the room and sits down next to him, the chair is just wide enough for both of them to sit in if they sit hip-to-hip, practically on top of each other. “Am I squishing you?”

Jughead rolls his eyes and slings one arm around her shoulders. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Cheryl takes a sip of whatever’s in her drink and twists a finger through one of her curls, her hair up in a perfect high ponytail. “We should play a game.”

Veronica grins. “What kind of game?”

Cheryl leans back on the bed, the blue skirt of the dress she changed into riding up her thighs. “How about Never Have I Ever? I think we’d all like a chance to get to know the new girl.”

Veronica smirks. “You’re on. Shall we review the rules?”

“The player states something they’ve never done,” Kevin pipes up. “If another player has done it, they have to take a drink.”

“Before we start, how are we defining hooking up?” Veronica asks. 

“Uh, sex?” Reggie says.

“What about oral?” Toni asks.

“Or handjobs,” Kevin adds.

“Kissing plus body parts touching!” Reggie exclaims, like he’s solved a particularly hard math problem.

Cheryl rolls her eyes. “Anything that goes further than making out counts, okay? Lord, let's just start already. And given that this was my idea, I’ll go first. Never have I ever been the new girl.”

Veronica and Toni both drink and Veronica rolls her eyes. “Cheap shot,” she tells Cheryl.

“I like to win,” Cheryl says sweetly. “I don’t care how I do it. Your turn, T.T.”

“Never have I ever been to Manhattan,” Toni says. “Sorry, Veronica.”

Veronica and Josie take a drink and then it’s Josie’s turn. “Never have I ever played football.”

Archie and Reggie each take a drink and high five each other. 

“Okay, my turn.” Kevin drums his fingers on his thighs. “Never have I ever had a boyfriend.”

“Aw, Kev!” Veronica coos after she and Josie drink.

“”Okay, let’s see,” Jughead muses. “Never have I ever been to Disneyworld.”

Every single one of them except for Toni drinks and Jughead gapes at them. “Seriously?”

“Nice one, bro,” Archie says.

“How is this possible?” Jughead asks faintly.

“Because some of us had childhoods,” Cheryl responds.

“This is it,” Jughead says, sounding delighted. “Betty, I’ve hacked the game. I’ve figured it out.”

She takes a sip of her drink and giggles. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to use their privilege against them!” he declares triumphantly.

“You can’t do that!” Veronica exclaims. “That’s like, the point of having privilege in the first place!”

Jughead smirks. “Game on, princess. It’s your turn, Betty.”

“Never have I ever gotten a detention,” she says, and Archie, Reggie, Jughead, and Toni all drink.

Reggie looks at them all over the rim of his cup. “Never have I ever hooked up outdoors,” he says, and Cheryl, Veronica, Archie and Kevin each take a drink. 

“Really?” Archie asks him.

“I don’t like bugs, okay?” Reggie shudders. “You’re up, bro.”

“Never have I ever been a cheerleader,” Archie says, grinning, and Betty drinks along with Cheryl.

Veronica looks at Jughead. “Never have I ever gone to public school.”

Every single one of them drinks while Veronica watches them, looking absolutely thrilled with herself.

“Never have I ever been to LA,” Cheryl says, without skipping a beat, and Josie drinks along with Betty.

“Never have I ever gotten straight A’s for a whole year,” Toni says, and Cheryl, Betty, Josie, and Jughead all drink.

“Never have I ever tried Jingle Jangle,” Kevin says, and Veronica and Reggie each drink.

Jughead leans back in his chair and grins at Veronica. “Never have I ever been on a plane.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Veronica says, and takes a drink along the rest of them.

“Okay,” Betty sighs thoughtfully. “Never have I ever hooked up with a guy in my dorm room.”

Josie and Kevin drink in response, while Veronica sighs wistfully. “To be fair, I’ve only been here for two weeks.”

“Never have I ever pulled an all-nighter,” Reggie says.

Betty and Jughead tap their cups together and drink. Betty isn’t drunk yet but she can feel a nice little buzz in her veins, warmth spreading through her body. She rests her head back against Jughead’s arm, waiting for Archie to ask his question, enjoying the feeling of Jughead’s fingers tracing circles around her shoulder.

“Never have I ever gone skinny dipping in Sweetwater River,” Archie says.

“No fair, I told you that when I was drunk,” Reggie complains, and takes a drink while Archie sniggers at him.

“My turn.” Veronica sits up a little and smiles right at Jughead. “Never have I ever taken the bus.”

“Oh, fuck you!” Jughead exclaims, and they all crack up and take a drink while Veronica gloats.

“Let’s see.” Cheryl looks around at them. “Never have I ever been in love with one of the boys in this room.”

Betty doesn’t move, she watches Archie out of the corner of her eye but he’s looking at Cheryl, scowling. Cheryl raises an eyebrow when none of them drink but she doesn’t say anything else and Betty wonders if Jughead can feel how tense she is.

“Never have I ever made out with a guy,” Toni says.

“Like, okay, what counts as making out? Like, kissing for more than five seconds? Ten seconds?” Veronica asks.

“Sure,” Toni laughs. 

Betty, Josie, Veronica, Cheryl and Kevin all drink, and Josie tilts her head as she thinks about her question. “Never have I ever kissed a girl.”

Cheryl, Toni, Jughead, Reggie, and Archie all drink and Betty wonders if any of them notice the way Archie’s hand shakes as he brings his cup to his lips.

“Never have I ever sexted,” Kevin says.

Reggie, Veronica, and Cheryl all drink. “You know, I think I’m starting to like you,” Cheryl tells Veronica.

Veronica snorts. “Or you’re drunk.”

Cheryl sips her drink. “That’s possible.”

“Okay, I’m ready. “Jughead narrows his eyes at Veronica. “Never have I ever had a credit card.”

Veronica, Reggie, Cheryl and Josie all drink while Betty thinks about her question. “Never have I ever cheated on a test.”

Reggie drinks and pouts when none of them do. “Seriously?”

“Some of us have ethics,” Josie responds.

“Never have I ever sung in a girl group that was named after me,” Reggie shoots back, and Josie gives him the finger as she takes a drink.

“Never have I ever hooked up with a Greendale cheerleader,” Archie says.

Reggie drinks along with Toni and smacks Archie’s arm. “What did I ever do to you, bro?”

Archie laughs. “Not my fault you make it easy for me.”

“Okay, my turn. Jughead, you get a pass this time, I’m changing it up.” Veronica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and gives Archie a flirty smile, and Betty grips her cup so hard her drink almost sloshes over the edge, dreading Veronica’s question.

Veronica takes a sip of her drink and licks her lips. “Never have I ever kissed Archie.”

_Rain soaking through her clothes, Archie’s cold, wet skin against her palms, raindrops mixing with her tears, the fresh smell of dirt._

Betty doesn’t realize she’s gotten up until she’s already halfway across the room and she lets her feet carry her out the doorway, down the hallway where other seniors are going in and out of the common room. She pushes past them and rushes down the stairs, stumbles outside and leans back against the wall as she starts to cry. She wraps her arms around herself, the wall cold against her back, and swallows back sobs as tears slide out of the corners of her eyes.

The door bangs open and Archie rushes out, looking around wildly until he realizes that she’s right there a few feet away. “Betty!”

She wipes her face with the edge of her hand as Archie comes up to her and to Betty’s relief he doesn’t touch her, he just leans sideways against the wall so he can look at her, sadness all over his face as he hunches forwards a little so their eyes are level.

“Was it really that bad?” he asks her quietly.

She can’t help it, she lets out a choked laugh. “No.”

Archie works his jaw. “But you’re crying.”

“I don’t know how to think about it and not think about the other stuff,” she explains.

“Oh.” Archie nods his head. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

He lets out a frustrated sounding sigh. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset at you! I just feel bad that it’s such a bad memory.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Betty I just want you to know… I know we never talked about it” -

“Archie,” she warns.

“It wasn’t bad for me,” he blurts out. “Yeah, everything else was the worst night of my life, but Betty, that kiss? For a few seconds I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t thinking about what was going to happen. I was just… kissing you, and for that one moment everything felt like it was okay. That was a gift, Betty. You gave that to me.”

“Archie.” She closes her eyes and tears slip down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs. “Please, Betty.”

“He took that from us,” she whimpers. “Everything good that we had, he took it Arch, and he made me - he was” -

“Hey, hey, stop.” Archie tugs Betty to his chest and wraps his arms around her. “I know.”

Betty buries her face in his shoulder and wraps her arms around him. “I was never - I would _never_ ” -

“Betty, hey, I never thought… can you look at me for a second?”

Betty reluctantly lifts her head and when she looks at Archie his eyes are glassy. He gives her a sad smile and cups her jaw with one hand. “I know you,” he says softly. “I know who you are. And I know you aren’t. You don’t ever have to explain that to me.”

Betty crumples, pushing her face into the palm of his hand. “Thank you.”

Archie sighs and runs his thumbs under her eyes, silver glitter smearing across his fingertips, before kissing her forehead. “Do you want to go back inside?”

“No,” Betty sniffs. “I just want to take a shower and go to bed.”

“Okay. I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

Betty raises an eyebrow at him. “It’s right across the courtyard, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Humor me,” he responds.

Betty shrugs and lets Archie take her hand, and walks with him along the path to the girls dorm, the silver glitter on his fingers from wiping her tears away sparkling in the moonlight.


	9. Nine of Wands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for this chapter include self-harm and eating disorder behaviors.

When Betty gets back to her room she kicks off her sneakers, walks right to the bathroom, and slams the door behind her. She yanks off Archie’s jersey and wiggles out of her jean shorts, unhooks her bra, steps out of her underwear and shoves all of her clothes in the hamper. She walks naked to the sink and opens the cabinet, pours Veronica’s micellar water onto a washcloth and starts scrubbing at her face.

It comes away covered in silver glitter, streaks of mascara, and beige smudges of foundation. Betty scrubs and scrubs until her face is raw and pink, unclips the bow from her hair and gets in the shower. She turns the water on hot and sits down in the tub, curls her arms around her legs and presses her forehead to her knees as the water pounds down on her back.

She closes her eyes and like this, shivering under the relentless fall of the water, it’s easy to remember how it felt that night, on her knees in front of Archie, her hands cupping his cold, wet cheeks. Archie, his big eyes round with fear, hands scrabbling at her jacket, the rabbit-fast rise and fall of his chest. 

Betty breathes through the nausea, the swirling pit in her stomach that tells her she might throw up. She puts her mouth around her knee, doesn’t actually bite but she presses her teeth against her skin, breathes through her nose and focuses on the blunt pressure of bone cutting into her knee until the nausea recedes.

After a while she manages to stand up on shaking legs, quickly washes up and decides she’s too tired to deal with her hair so she steps out of the shower with a wet ponytail and wraps a towel around herself. When she goes out into her room Veronica is sitting on the edge of her bed in a lacy black camisole and little grey shorts, hands twisting in her lap.

“Betty, oh my god.” Veronica jumps up and Betty automatically takes a step back. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s fine.” Betty goes over to her closet and gets out a clean pair of underwear, a bralette and an oversized tee shirt. “You didn’t know.”

“I swear Betty, I never would’ve said that if I knew that you guys used to be a thing.”

Betty pulls her underwear on under the towel and turns around to put on the bralette and her tee shirt. “We were never a thing. It’s just… not a good memory.”

When she turns around Veronica is standing by her desk, close but not enough to make Betty feel boxed in. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Betty walks past her and leans against her bed. “It was just a kiss.”

Veronica’s chewing on her bottom lip. “Betty… Archie didn’t… he didn’t make you” -

“Oh my god, Veronica.” Betty has to press her hand against her mouth to stop herself from laughing. “No, of course not. That’s not Archie.”

Veronica looks relieved. “Okay. Good. So what, is he just a terrible kisser or something?”

_Soft lips brushing against hers, trembling hands clutching at her jacket to pull her closer, raindrops beading on his eyelashes or maybe tears._

“No,” Betty says softly. “It was just… Archie and I, we never got the timing right.”

Veronica tilts her head. “Did you have a crush on him or something?”

“Yeah, back when we were younger,” Betty says, faux casual. “It was just a stupid crush. I’m totally over it.”

“So you don’t hate me?” 

“No, of course not. You didn’t know.”

“So you and Archie… you don’t think…”

“There is no me and Archie,” Betty says firmly. “We’re just friends.”

“Okay.” Veronica holds her hands up in the air. “If you say so.”

*

When Betty wakes up in the morning Veronica’s already dressed in a sleeveless plum dress and ankle boots, makeup already done. Betty stretches and glances at the clock, it’s a little after nine and she has no idea why Veronica’s so dressed up just for breakfast.

“Get up, c’mon.” Veronica taps something out on her phone. “We’re going out today.”

Betty rubs her eyes. “We are?”

“Yes, my driver is picking us up and I’m treating you to a girls day.”

Betty stares at her. “What?”

“Betty, you’re my new bestie and I don’t want to mess this up. If I can do anything to fix what I did last night” -

“I already told you, it’s fine.”

“Please?” Veronica gives her a hopeful look. “It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll go into the city, get a fabulous brunch and get our nails done. “

Betty doesn’t know how to say no when Veronica is looking at her like that. “Okay.”

Veronica squeals. “Yay! Go get dressed.”

Betty goes to the bathroom and brushes her teeth, washes her face and does her makeup, takes out her ponytail to brush her hair before re-doing it. She goes back to the room and changes into her pink corduroy skirt and a striped tee, puts on her Keds and sticks her wallet, phone and keys in her bag.

“Ready?” Veronica asks.

Betty grabs the sunglasses Veronica gave her from her backpack and puts them on. “Yeah.”

They go outside and walk through campus, go out through the front gate where a black town car is waiting. A man in a suit and black sunglasses gets out and walks around to open the door to the backseat for them, wordlessly nodding as they slide inside. He shuts their door and they buckle up, Betty’s heart rate elevating when he gets in and starts the car. She’s been in cars since That Night, her mother drove her to the airport for her internship (although she’d already given Betty a sedative so she was pretty out of it). She took a ride share to work sometimes with her roommates in LA, her mother picked her up at the airport at the end of summer and drove her back to school.

So it’s not like she can’t handle it, being in a car. She just doesn’t like it very much.

Betty can feel her phone buzzing in her bag, when she pulls it out it’s buzzing with a text from Archie. _Where are you guys?_

She texts him back before slipping her phone back in her bag. Next to her Veronica raises an eyebrow. “Archie?”

“Yeah.”

“Look, I know you said there’s nothing to talk about, but are you sure you guys are just friends? ‘Cus sometimes I kind of get a vibe between you two.”

Betty’s relieved she has sunglasses on so Veronica can’t see her expression. “A vibe?”

“It just… it seems like you have a history.”

“I’ve known Archie since we were little kids. We lived next door to each other.” Betty turns her head so she can watch her town fly by the window. “Our lives have always been intertwined, I guess.”

“Betty,” Veronica starts tentatively. “If Archie is off limits…”

“I’m not going to tell you who you can and can’t hook up with.” It feels a little surreal, actually having this conversation. “You and Archie are allowed to do whatever you want.”

“I’m not saying I would!” Veronica says quickly. “But if I did… I don’t want to start a love triangle, you know?”

“Archie and I aren’t together.”

“Are you saying that if something happened between us you wouldn’t care?”

Betty watches the trees turn to cement buildings and billboards as they approach the highway. “You know, he asked me to marry him once.”

“What?”

“We were in second grade. I told him to ask me again when we were eighteen.”

“That’s adorable.” Betty doesn’t miss the envy in Veronica’s tone. “So what happened, why aren’t you writing Mrs. Betty Andrews all over your notebooks?”

“I told you, we never got the timing right. And” - Betty almost says _after last summer_ and barely catches herself - “We’re older now. I’m not that little girl with a crush anymore.”

“So it wouldn’t bother you if he went out with another girl?”

Betty rubs her forehead. “Are you asking me for permission to go for him?”

“I’m asking you if it would hurt you if I did.”

Betty chokes back laughter, the idea that Veronica could really hurt her is a little adorable, like Veronica has no idea what it takes to scare Betty now. “I won’t be mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay.” Veronica takes out her phone and unlocks it. “Want to listen to a podcast?”

“Sure.”

Betty lets Veronica pick an episode of a show Betty doesn’t know, and Veronica holds an earbud out to her so they can share. It reminds Betty of car rides with Polly, the two of them in the backseat whispering to each other, lost in their own world.

When they get into the city Veronica puts her phone away so Betty can look out the window until they get to the restaurant Veronica has chosen for brunch. Her driver parks at the curb and opens the door for them, Betty follows Veronica out of the car and waits while Veronica arranges for them to be picked back up in a few hours. Veronica confidently strides up to the glass doors of the restaurant and Betty follows her inside. It’s full of people dining, lots of sunlight and fresh flowers on each table.

“Reservation for Lodge,” Veronica says to the girl behind the hostess stand, and they’re led to a table by the windows and told cheerfully to enjoy their meal.

Betty doesn’t open her menu until their waiter has already brought them coffee. She cradles her mug as she flips open the leather bound menu and begins scanning. It’s a nightmare of options: eggs made any way she could possibly want, an entire page of different kinds of pancakes, waffles, parfaits, bacon, fresh seasonal fruit.

“The pancakes are really good,” Veronica volunteers.

“I think I might get eggs,” Betty murmurs.

When their waiter comes back Veronica orders blueberry pancakes and Betty orders an egg white only garden omelette. Veronica takes a sip of her coffee, the sunlight coming in through the window making her skin glow. Betty has one of those moments where she just sort of marvels at Veronica, her easy elegance, the way she moves through the world expecting doors to part for her.

When their food comes Veronica digs in with relish. “Oh my god, I can’t tell you how much I’ve been craving these.”

Betty carefully cuts off the edge of her omelette, spears a tiny piece and pops it into her mouth. It’s good, really good, and she uses her fork to cut off another bite. She makes it a quarter of the way through it before she starts to feel anxious, watching Veronica lick syrup off her lips. 

“What’s wrong, you’re barely eating!” Veronica comments.

“It’s good,” Betty insists. “Sorry, I’m just slow.”

“Take your time girl, no rush.” Veronica holds her coffee cup up to the waiter, who hurries over to top her off. “We’ve got like an hour before mani pedis.”

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Girl, it’s Saturday, come on, tell me this isn't a million times better than eating at the dining hall. Not that I don’t love ogling the football team from time to time but it’s nice to get a little variety.”

Betty laughs hollowly and cuts her omelette up into tiny pieces so it looks like she ate more than she did, and finishes her coffee. When Veronica finishes her pancakes and the check comes she lays down her credit card like she’s daring Betty to fight her on it. 

Betty doesn’t, because she’s learning it’s easier to go along with what Veronica wants and that’s how she’s always been anyway. Reliable, agreeable Betty Cooper, happy to be included, who’s only ever wanted to belong, to be a part of something, be more than her parents’ daughter and now Veronica’s here, giving Betty a second chance she doesn’t deserve.

“Come on.” Veronica pushes back from her chair and slings the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “The nail salon isn’t that far, we can walk it.”

Betty sticks close to Veronica on the sidewalk. There are so many people everywhere and she got used to it in LA, being just another girl in the crowd, but it gives her comfort to have the other girl next to her, makes Betty feel a little more connected.

With Veronica confidently striding down the street next to her Betty doesn’t feel like a lonely girl, a girl marked with darkness, the daughter of someone evil. The invisible mark she feels sometimes, her own personal scarlet letter, isn’t present right now, she doesn’t feel like she’s wrapped in a dark cloud of shame for everyone to see. Next to Veronica, in her expensive borrowed sunglasses and swinging ponytail, Betty feels like a regular teenage girl, the kind of girl who brunches with her best friend on the weekends, just a normal girl no one would look at twice.

The nail salon is weirdly comforting, the same kind of environment as every salon Betty’s ever been to - the soothing music, the racks of polish, the soft spoken nail technicians with their endless smiles. Their pedicures are first, Betty picks a soft pink polish and Veronica picks out a deep red, and they’re led over to massage chairs to soak their feet.

“I needed this,” Veronica sighs. “There’s nothing like some pampering.”

With warm water lapping around her ankles and the massage chair working out kinks in her back, Betty has to agree.

*

They make it back to their dorm by dinnertime, Veronica talked Betty into going shopping after getting their nails done and Betty couldn’t say no. She only got a few things but she can’t deny it was fun. Veronica took her to little boutiques Betty wouldn’t have ever thought to go in and she’s proud of herself, for being able to enjoy it, to have a day, even part of a day, where she was able to relax and enjoy being a teenager.

“You should wear your new dress to dinner,” Veronica tells her, dumping the contents of her shopping bags onto her bed and rifling through them.

The dress she’s talking about is pale blue with teeny white polka dots. Betty had to be talked into buying it, she loved it as soon as she saw it on the hanger but it’s sleeveless, with tiny straps that crisscross over her back and a short flared skirt. She didn’t know how to explain to Veronica that she’s trying not to show so much of her body these days, that the dress is beautiful but in it Betty’s shoulders and arms and back are all exposed. She thinks about Archie or Jughead being able to see the wings of her shoulder blades, the knobs of her spine, the sharp points of her elbows, and her stomach drops.

“I don’t know,” Betty hedges. “You think?”

Veronica shimmies out of the dress she was wearing earlier and kicks it in the direction of their closet. “Totally! What’s the point of having that rockin’ bod if you never show it off?”

 _Bad influence_ , a voice in Betty’s head whispers, a voice that sounds like her mother.

“Yeah, okay,” Betty agrees, because everyone saw her in her swimsuit last weekend anyway and maybe she wants that feeling back, pride in her body instead of shame, and if Veronica thinks Betty looks good that should be enough for her.

Betty changes into the new dress and rips off the tags while Veronica selects a few of her new purchases to wear, dark blue crepe shorts over a lacy black bodysuit with a high neck. “See, isn’t it fun to wear new stuff?” 

“Yeah,” Betty agrees, smoothing out her skirt before putting her Keds back on.

They go downstairs and walk through the courtyard, mixing in with the rest of the students going into the dining hall. They get in line behind a group of juniors, grab trays and wait their turn. By the times she’s gotten to the salad station Betty is already regretting her choice to wear the dress, she feels like everyone is staring at her, painfully aware of how exposed she is.

She adds veggies to her salad at random, thinking that she could’ve layered a tee shirt under her dress, she could’ve put on a cardigan but she didn’t and now everyone can see her, the line of her collarbones and the bones in her wrists and the dip of her waist. She’s so worked up by the time they get to their table that she slips into an open chair between Veronica and Kevin and doesn’t say hi to any of the guys.

“The ladies return,” Jughead quips.

“Betty and I had a girls day to cement our BFF status,” Veronica says cheerfully as she stabs a piece of spinach and ricotta ravioli with her fork. 

“Did you braid each other’s hair and paint your nails?” Jughead shoots back dryly.

Veronica wiggles her freshly painted fingernails. “Female bonding rituals are important.”

Betty tunes them out, focuses on trying to eat her salad. She should be ravenous, all she’s had today is part of an omelette and she spent part of the day walking around the city with Veronica but now that she’s sitting down in front of her dinner her stomach starts to cramp up. She has the paranoid feeling that everyone is watching her, cataloging all the exposed parts of her body and judging her.

She feels stupid, for ever thinking she could pretend to be anything other than who she is. She’s never going to be normal, normal died with Jason Blossom and her innocence died That Night in the dirt with Archie’s face in her hands. She’s not a normal teenager, she’s a girl made up of sugar and spice and poison, Blossom blood in her veins, her mother’s grit and determination in her soul and her father’s darkness inside her heart.

“Betty, did you hear that?” Her head snaps up, Archie is watching her with a furrowed brow.

“Sorry.” She crumples up her napkin and drops it into her half eaten salad. “What?”

“A bunch of us are going to the Twilight drive-in tonight, you and Ronnie want in?”

The only thing Betty takes away from that sentence is that Archie had a new nickname for Veronica and she blinks dumbly at him.

“A drive-in? How quaint,” Veronica comments. “What’s playing?”

Jughead grins. “The Maltese Falcon.”

“I swear, something about this town makes me feel like I’ve traveled back in time.” Veronica turns sideways to glance at Betty. “Shall we?”

“Yeah,” Betty agrees without really thinking about it, because it’s a Saturday night and she’ll go along with whatever her friends want to do, anything is better than sitting alone in her dorm room mentally spiraling.

“Do any of us actually have cars?” Veronica inquires.

“We usually bring lawn chairs and blankets,” Archie says.

Veronica gives him a flirtatious smile. “Sounds cozy.”

Betty watches Archie smile back with a cold, sinking feeling. She meant what she said earlier, that she has no claim on Archie, that he and Veronica are free to explore their connection, but she doesn’t have to like it.

When dinner’s over Betty hopes they’ll all go back to the dorms before walking over to the Twilight but Archie and Kevin stashed a bunch of lawn chairs in the storage shed behind the boys dorm and Betty can’t think of a believable excuse to run up to get a layer, not when it’s a balmy seventy-six degrees outside and the sun hasn’t set yet.

Archie and Kevin carry a chair under each arm and Jughead grabs the fifth. Betty grabs a huge plaid fleece blanket, thinking she can carry it in front of her body like a shield, but Veronica holds her arms out for it.

“I’ve got it,” Betty says, but Veronica insists on taking it from her.

“I can help,” Veronica says, and Betty doesn’t know if she’s offering for Betty or Archie but Betty has no good reason to refuse so she hands the other girl the blanket and crosses her arms over her chest.

The five of them walk through campus, stopping when they run into Josie, Valerie and Mel, who are each carrying a folding chair. The three members of the Pussycats join them as they walk all the way through the front gate and leave campus. Archie’s in front next to Veronica, who’s peppering him with questions about the Twilight. Kevin links arms with Josie and starts an off-key duet, Val and Mel harmonizing along.

Betty plods along next to Jughead at the back of the group, enjoying the way his shoulder occasionally bumps up against hers. She jumps when a car honks and Jughead steadies her with a hand on the small of her back as they turn towards the sidewalk, where Cheryl has pulled her cherry red Chevy Impala over to the shoulder, Toni in the passenger seat and Ginger and Tina in the back.

“Enjoy walking, see you at the movie, losers!” Cheryl calls out, and pulls her car back out into traffic so quickly the tires squeal.

Jughead rolls his eyes as they all resume walking. “Classic.”

“Could’ve been worse,” Betty murmurs, arms still tight across her chest.

“True.” He glances sideways at her. “You cold or something?”

“A little,” she lies, because that seems easier than explaining.

Jughead shrugs out of his denim jacket without having to put down the chair and holds it out to her. “Here.”

She gives him a grateful smile and tugs it on. “Thanks Jug.”

“Anytime, Cooper.”

He doesn’t say anything else so they keep walking, the sun starting to dip behind the horizon, streaking the sky with pink and orange and gold, and Betty tightens Jughead’s jacket around her, imagining that it’s armor, protecting her and her fragile body from anything or anyone that could cause her harm.


	10. The Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has trigger warnings that include self harm.

Betty sits through the movie at The Twilight without really taking it in. It’s one of Jughead’s favorites which means she’s seen it at least a few times already so she lets herself zone out instead, her thoughts bouncing around. Archie and Veronica have chosen to sit on the blanket together and Betty watches them from where she’s sitting behind them in one of the foldable chairs in between Jughead and Kevin. They don’t cuddle, not exactly, but they sit close enough for their sides to touch, Veronica’s bare legs stretched out next to his.

Betty wonders if Veronica was serious earlier, about going for Archie, if she really likes him or she’s just keeping her interests open. Betty doesn’t get the vibe that Veronica is looking for a relationship but she’s the new girl, and she’s gorgeous, and single, she could have any boy in the senior class.

Any boy, and she’s sitting next to Archie Andrews, her head tipping to the side until it rests on his shoulder.

 _It doesn’t matter_ , Betty tells herself, curling her fingers into her palms. She and Archie had their chance and they missed it, they bombed the timing so badly they almost got themselves killed. She’d never be able to do that now anyway, sit next to Archie with her head on his shoulder watching a movie, and not think about the last time they did that.

They hadn’t even been touching then, just sitting on the couch together with no one in the room but them had been a thrill all on its own. Nothing was even necessarily going to happen That Night between them, they knew Jughead was coming over when he got off his shift at the movie theatre. It was the _potential_ that got her, the buzz between them, the unspoken agreement that they were both feeling something, something real, and then -

Jughead puts his hand on her wrist and she jumps, she’d completely forgot where she is.

 _Are you okay?_ he mouths.

She nods slowly, and looks down where his fingers are wrapped around her wrist. He squeezes, very lightly, and when she looks up at him his jaw is locked and his blue eyes are stormy and her stomach drops.

_Her blood dripping down and splattering on the floor, over the toes of her boots. His arms around her as she fell into him, soft worn flannel under her cheek as she’d buried her face in his chest and screamed._

_Stop_ , he mouths.

When she raises a confused eyebrow he pulls her hand into his lap and flips it over, wedges his fingers under hers and unfurls them from her palm. White crescents reveal themselves, smiling up from her palm, and Jughead hisses under his breath as he reaches across her lap to yank her left hand over so he can do the same thing. He grips her hands, his fingers tight around hers so she can’t use them to hurt herself.

 _Stop_ , he mouths again. _Please._

She blinks back tears and focuses on the reassuring pressure of his hands holding hers. _I’m sorry_ , she mouths back.

His mouth twists to the side at that and he holds her hands up so they’re gathered against his chest, right over his heart. _I know._

*

In the morning Veronica gets dressed for church while Betty throws on jeans and a cap sleeved pink bodysuit. Veronica tries on three dresses in a row before settling on a midnight blue dress with long sleeves and black tights under it, a velvet headband, and a silver necklace with a cross resting against the base of her throat.

“How do I look?” Veronica cock her hip. “I’m going for a nice Catholic girl vibe.”

“Nailed it,” Betty tells her, bending down to put on her Keds.

“Want to get coffee with me on the way out?” Veronica asks her. “I mean, there’s definitely a chance I’ll fall asleep during mass anyway but at least I won’t be jonesing for caffeine.”

Betty grabs Veronica’s sunglasses (she still doesn’t think of them as hers, even though Veronica insisted on giving them to her) and grabs her bag. “Sure.”

They run down to the coffee bar and get their drinks to go, and walk through campus towards the front gate. It’s a Sunday morning so it’s quiet, no one is studying outside or throwing around a frisbee or reading on any of the benches. Veronica still seems half asleep so Betty walks next to her in amicable silence, enjoying the other girl’s presence, the simple comfort of having a friend to walk with.

When they go through the gates Betty isn’t surprised to see a black town car parked at the curb. “This is me,” Veronica says. “Can we give you a ride? You’re meeting your mom, right?”

“No, it's fine, I can walk.”

“Are you sure?” Veronica asks.

“Yeah, it’s nice out, I don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Veronica hugs her goodbye. “We’re studying for French together when we both get back later, right?”

“Totally,” Betty assures her.

“Awesome. Have fun with your mom.” 

“Thanks,” Betty answers dryly. She’d rather not go at all but she and her mother have a deal, mother-daughter Sunday brunch every week and her mother stays off her back about… everything.

Veronica winks before pulling a pair of tortoiseshell patterned sunglasses out of her bag. “I’ll pray for you.”

Betty laughs at that. “Thanks.”

Veronica waves as a man gets out of the driver’s side of the car and walks around to open the door to the backseat for her. Betty watches Veronica disappear inside the car and waits for it to pull away from the curb before crossing the street and walking in the direction of town. She digs her headphones out of her bag and hooks them up to her phone so she can listen to music as she walks. 

Riverdale on a Sunday morning is almost as quiet as campus, almost no traffic and not many pedestrians out either. Betty walks past the gas station, the park, trying to mentally prepare herself for brunch. Last weekend was fine, if a little awkward, but the idea of doing this every week for the whole school year makes her feel a little weary. It’s a dynamic Betty is still getting used to, just her and her mother. For so long Betty was the youngest in a nuclear family, even after Jason died and Polly was -

 _Stop it_ , Betty tells herself, tossing her empty coffee cup into a trash can on the sidewalk. Dwelling on what happened won’t change anything.

When she gets to the Northside Cafe the hostess informs her that her mother is already here early, because of course she is. Betty sighs to herself and follows the hostess across the sunny cafe over to a two top near the back wall with large windows that face the garden. When her mother sees her she pushes her glasses up into her hair and moves the paper she was reading to the side as she gets up to hug Betty.

“Hey, Mom.” Betty hugs her back carefully, hoping her mother can’t feel her vertebrae through her top. 

Her mother pulls away and cups Betty’s face in her hands. “Did you forget to put on blush, sweetheart? You look pale.”

“Sorry,” Betty mutters, and sinks down into the open chair.

Her mother sits back down and shakes out her nature before setting it in her lap. “I’m just concerned Elizabeth, you are getting outside on occasion, aren’t you?”

“Sun damage gives you wrinkles,” Betty replies sweetly, and signals to the waitress for coffee.

Betty’s mom has the grace to keep the topics light as they talk over egg white omelettes and whole wheat toast. She asks about Betty’s schedule, how she’s getting along with Veronica, what stories the Blue & Gold is working on. It’s nice, sort of, if Betty can forget about Polly, and her dad, which she never really can but she’s able to push them to the back of her brain for a little while. She knows better than to mention either of them to her mom, even though Betty wishes they could at least talk about Polly, but every time she mentioned her sister to her mom on the phone over the summer she was assured that Polly was fine and Betty can see her once Polly is allowed visitors, which judging how long Polly’s been gone seems like it’ll be never.

“I brought you those things you asked for,” her mother says when they’re finished eating and the waitress is running her credit card. She reaches into her purse and takes out a pile of notebooks. “Here, I had to go into your - anyway, she had a whole stack of them in her desk.”

Betty takes the notebooks and puts them into her backpack. “Thanks Mom.”

“One more thing.” Her mother takes a white prescription bag out of her purse and pushes it across the table. “You forgot to pick up your Adderall.”

“Sorry.” Betty’s cheeks flush as she shoves the pharmacy bag deep into her backpack.

“It’s your senior year honey, you can’t afford to slack now.”

“I’m not slacking!”

“I know, I know! I’m just saying, it never hurts to take all the help you can get.”

The waitress returns with her moms credit card and they go outside, where the car is parked on the street. Her mother squeezes her shoulder. “Come on, I’ll drive you back to school.”

“You don’t have to,” Betty replies automatically. She’s been in this car four times since That Night and every time all she’d been able to think about was her father in the passenger seat.

“We could stop at the bookstore,” her mother offers hopefully, which is totally a bribe but also, _books_ , so Betty gives her a small smile and gets into the car.

It’s not so bad being in the car in the day like this, with sun streaming in through the windows and the radio playing, her mother’s acrylic nails tapping against the steering wheel, nothing like That Night, driving in the dark with her hands clenched so hard around the wheel Betty’s arms were sore the next day.

The bookstore is the same one she’s been going to since she was a kid devouring every Nancy Drew she could get her hands on. Her mother turns her loose when they go inside so she can catch up with the owner, which means Betty gets to wander the shelves by herself. She picks up the latest Gillian Flynn she’s been meaning to read, a few detective novels, and a new copy of Summer Sisters since she’s sure Polly took hers, because Betty couldn’t find it anywhere when she packed for school.

She meets her mother at the register, who tosses a few pretty colorful little notebooks and a pack of gel pens on top of Betty’s new books and pays for everything. Betty thanks her with a pit in her stomach, she knows exactly why her mother is spoiling her and Betty doesn’t know how she feels about it when her mom does things like this but she always takes it anyway, because she’s still the same girl in a lot of ways, taking whatever scraps of love she can get, the good girl who puts the needs of her family over her own.

They go back out to the car and Betty winds the straps of the shopping bag around her fingers as her mother drives her back to school. She stares out the window and she doesn’t think about anything, she reads street signs and watches traffic lights change and hums along to the radio and does whatever she has to so she stays in the present, so she doesn’t think about _a gun against her ribs and her hands on the wheel so tight it hurt and her vision blurred from tears so badly she thought she might crash the car, and then she thought maybe she actually should_ -

“Elizabeth.”

Betty jolts, they’ve arrived at school and her mother has parallel parked behind Fred Andrews’ truck.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Betty undoes her seatbelt and leans across the console to give her mother a quick hug. “Thanks for the books.”

Her mother smiles and reaches out to push back a stray hair from Betty’s forehead. “Same time next week?”

Betty reaches for the door to open it. “Sure.”

“Elizabeth.”

Betty stops with her hand on the door handle. “What? I have to study for French.”

Her mother’s happy face slips, just for a second. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Mom,” Betty replies dutifully. “I’ll see you next week, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart.”

Betty gets out of the car and shuts the door with her foot, fingers still clutching the shopping bag. A few feet ahead of her Archie’s standing on the sidewalk talking to his dad, and when they see her Fred gives her a broad smile and walks over to her, arms outstretched.

“How’s my best girl doing?” he asks cheerfully, and wraps her up in a hug before she can respond.

Betty shuts her eyes and tries not to cry, this is a man who’s put band-aids on her bloody knees, driven her and Archie around to soccer practice and school and the hardware store, took her to a father-daughter dance in eight grade when her dad had to work late on a story. He’s the closest thing to a real father she has left.

“I’m okay,” she says softly as she pulls away. “It’s nice to see you.”

“That your mom?” he asks, as her parent’s car pulls away.

“Yeah.”

They all wave as her mother drives away and a shiny black car pulls into the open space. The driver’s door opens and Betty’s stomach drops when Clifford Blossom gets out. Betty can feel Archie come up and close the space between her and his dad as Penelope Blossom gets out of the passenger side of the car while Cheryl slides out of the backseat in a frothy black dress and big black sunglasses. There’s no avoiding them, the Blossoms are standing right in front of them, three against three on the sidewalk, and Betty’s ears start to ring, tips of her fingers going numb and _no_ , this is not the time or place to have a meltdown -

Her own panic fades to the background as Penelope’s face twists up in fury. “ _You_ ,” she spits, and Betty realizes with horror that she’s looking right at Archie. “It should be you in the ground, not my Jason!”

She lunges at Archie and Betty screams, throwing herself behind Archie and trying to pull him back out of Mrs. Blossom’s reach. Fred and Cheryl’s dad pull her off him immediately and Archie stumbles back into Betty, his hands reaching out to catch her by the waist before he can knock her over, his face white. Mrs. Blossom is screaming and flailing, her husband’s arms around her the only thing keeping her from flying at Archie.

Cheryl appears at her mother’s side, she’s still wearing her sunglasses but behind them she must be crying, because mascara trails roll down her cheeks. “Momsy,” she whimpers softly. “Stop it. Please. What happened to J.J. wasn’t Archie’s fault!”

“Really, Penelope,” Mr. Blossom grunts. “This is most unbecoming.”

Cheryl’s mom continues to cry but her body goes limp and she lets Mr. Blossom take her back to the car. Mr. Andrews walks over to Betty and Archie, and when he sees Archie just _standing_ there with blank eyes he puts his hands right in either side of Archie’s face.

“Hey,” Mr. Andrews says firmly. “Don’t listen to anything that woman says. She should never have said that to you. What happened to Jason Blossom was a terrible tragedy, but it has nothing to do with you. You are in no way to blame for anything that’s happened” - he glances sideways at Betty - “either of you. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Archie mutters.

Fred doesn’t let him go. “What was that?”

“Yes, sir.” Archie closes his eyes and a few tears slide down his face.

Betty looks away as his dad hugs him, only to find Cheryl standing right there next to her, like she’s been waiting for Betty this whole time. “What?” Betty snaps, more surprised than angry.

Cheryl sniffs delicately, her fingers laced together so tightly her knuckles are white. “For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

Betty could tell her to go to hell, tell Cheryl that her word means nothing, take out all her anger and rage on her cousin and it might even feel good, hell, it’s not like Cheryl wouldn’t deserve it. But Betty just can’t bring herself to do it. She knows what it’s like to be at the mercy of your parents, to carry their sin, their shame, around your neck like a weight that never lets you breathe.

”Thanks,” she finally says.

Cheryl nods, her red curls swaying. “Doesn’t feel like it means much, does it? A stupid word can’t change anything that happened.”

“No,” Betty agrees. “It doesn’t.”

Cheryl pushes her sunglasses up into her hair and delicately wipes her eyes. “I still am, though. I’m sorry.”

Betty thinks about hugging her and settles for reaching out and gently squeezing Cheryl’s hand instead. “Me too.”


	11. Two of Wands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has trigger warnings that include self harm and a panic attack.

Later that night, after Betty and Veronica have studied for French, after Betty and Archie sit through dinner with their friends without looking at each other once, Betty excuses herself to take a shower while Veronica is changing for bed.

She makes sure the door is locked before stripping off all her clothes and getting into the shower, turns the water on hot and ducks her head under the spray. She tilts her head back and smooths her hair away from her face, eyes shut. She can’t get it out of her head, Penelope Blossom going after Archie like she was ready to claw his skin off with her fingernails.

Everything Archie’s dad said to him was true, that he had nothing to do with Jason Blossom’s death. But everything that happened to Archie That Night? That’s on Betty.

Archie would’ve never gone through what he did if they hadn’t been together That Night. She should’ve known better, she should’ve been more careful. She should’ve understood that she didn’t have the luxury of hanging out with the boy she liked in her parents’ house without consequences. 

She stays in the shower for a long time, eyes closed so she doesn’t cry, shaking under the hot water. It’s overwhelming, all the guilt she feels when she thinks about That Night. It’s like replaying a horror movie inside her head, watching the girl on screen march to her death and not be able to do anything; she wants to scream at herself for every wrong choice she makes, every opportunity she didn’t take to try to get away earlier. 

When she finally drags herself out of the shower and reaches for her towel her thighs begin to sting. She looks down and notices in confusion that there are beads of blood dripping down them. At first she thinks she must’ve nicked herself shaving but then she lines up her fingers with her legs and realizes she was digging her nails into her thighs without even realizing it, hard enough to break the skin. She swallows back a frustrated sigh and gets her first aid kit out from under the sink, dabs antibacterial ointment over the bloody scratches and covers them with band-aids.

She changes into the pink striped pajamas she brought into the bathroom with her, relieved that she has them to put on and doesn’t have to walk out into her room with her bandaged thighs in full view below the hem of a towel. She likes Veronica, Betty’s a lot happier having her as a roommate than she initially thought she’d be, but that doesn’t mean Betty’s ready for Veronica to know everything about her.

She brushes her hair and her teeth and puts night cream on her face like her mother always instructed her to do before going back into her room. Veronica’s lying on her bed in another silk pajama set, a deep teal this time, her laptop balanced on her thighs.

“Hey, your phone rang while you were in the shower,” she tells Betty.

“Thanks.” Betty walks over where she left her phone screen down on the foot of her bed, and flips it over to read the notification.

_One Missed Call - Blocked_

Betty’s hands start to shake so hard her phone slips out of her grasp and bounces onto her bed.

Veronica shuts her laptop and gets up to put it on her desk. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Betty sets her alarm for the morning and puts her phone on _do not disturb_. “Just a wrong number.”

*

They’re all sitting in the dining hall eating breakfast the next morning when Dilton Doiley trips on his way to his table and everything on his tray falls to the floor with a crash so loud that Betty jumps and spills her water all over herself.

“Betty!” Veronica immediately starts shoving napkins at her and Betty takes them without looking up, furiously blotting at her wet skirt.

Her heart starts to pound in her chest and she realizes her hands are shaking, her fingers going numb. She bunches up the napkins and drops them into her uneaten bowl of cereal, grabs her backpack and stands up from the table.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom and clean up,” she mumbles, and rushes out of the dining hall before Veronica can offer to go with her.

She makes it to the alcove near the bathrooms before her knees give out and her back slams against the wall, hands braced back against it so she doesn’t slide to the floor. Her face feels hot and she tips her head forward as tears start to slide down her cheeks. Her legs are shaking so badly she can hardly stay upright, her breath catching in her chest at the sound of approaching footsteps but it turns out to just be Archie, his face very white, followed by Jughead.

“Betty, hey, hey.” Archie walks up to her and puts his hands on her face just like his dad did to him the day before, his palms warm against her wet cheeks. “Look at me.”

As soon as she does she starts to cry for real, choking on hitched sobs. “I… I…”

Archie leans his forehead against hers. “I know.”

She reaches up and grabs his wrists, squeezing her eyes shut as more tears slide out. “I’m sorry,” she sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, the sound, it sounded like when I” -

“Don’t.” Archie’s voice is hoarse. “I could’ve - I should’ve done it. I should’ve never let you” -

“No,” she cries. “Don’t say that, he was… he would’ve...”

“Guys.” Jughead puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Maybe we should talk about this outside.”

Betty shudders and lets go of Archie to wipe her eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about. It won’t change what happened.”

“Betty.” Jughead’s voice is hard when he says her name but he’s looking at her with soft eyes.

“I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Archie says stiffly. “We all know what happened, there’s no point in rehashing it.”

Jughead looks at both of them like they’re insane. “Wow, you two are even more fucked up from this than I realized.”

“Thanks,” Betty sneers, and pushes past him. “Real nice, Jug.”

He gives her an annoyed look. “You know what I meant.”

“What part of we don’t want to talk about it don't you understand?”

“What part of you and Archie reacting to a glass breaking like it’s a gunshot don’t _you_ understand?” he snaps back.

“The gun never went off,” Archie mumbles.

“Archie.” Betty shoots daggers at him with her eyes.

“What? It didn’t.”

_The wet metal of the shovel handle freezing cold in her hands, the arc it made when she swung it through the air as she turned and brought it down with a sickening crack._

“I’m going to run back to my dorm to put on a dry skirt, I’ll meet you in History,” she says to Jughead, and pushes past both of them to rush out of the building before they can stop her.

*

That night Betty flips through the notebooks her mother gave her at the cafe while she does homework in her room with Veronica, both girls sitting at their desks listening to Veronica’s study playlist while they work. Betty had asked her mom to get any fresh notebooks she had left in her bedroom back at home because she was running low but she must not have had any because her mother got them from Polly’s room and they all have Polly’s name written in pen on the inside covers.

Betty takes a blank one with a pale blue cover and writes _Mod Euro History_ below Polly’s name. She thinks about crossing off her sister’s name and writing her own but she can’t bring herself to do it, erase Polly that way.

She grabs another one and labels it _AP French_ before setting it to the side, picks up another notebook, this one with a lavender cover that she wants to use to sketch out ideas for future Blue and Gold articles, but when she flips through it she realizes the notebook has already been written in. The pages are filled with Polly’s looping script and Betty almost puts the notebook away to recycle it later, she doesn’t need Polly’s half-assed written class notes from two years ago but then she catches a few of the words and stops, flips back to the first page to confirm her suspicion -

She isn’t holding a notebook full of Polly’s old notes. It’s her sister’s journal.

A rush of heat moves through her, like she’s been caught doing something wrong, but when she glances sideways at Veronica the other girl is buried in her Psych textbook, not paying any attention to Betty.

Betty knows what she should do. Put the notebook in the back of her closet, return it to her mother, figure out how to get it mailed to Polly, pretend she never saw it and go back to her homework.

Instead, she begins to read.

Every entry is dated, starting at the beginning of the spring of Polly’s junior year. Betty skims through the first few entries, ignoring complaints about school assignments, their mother, SAT prep.

Betty stops when she sees the word _Jason_.

She goes back to the beginning of the entry and starts over from the first sentence. She knows what she’s doing is wrong, a violation, invading her sister’s privacy like this, but she can’t help it, seamlessly slipping back into detective mode. It’s something she’s always known how to do, turn off her feelings and her moral compass in chase of a story.

She probably gets it from her father. The way she can shut out everything else when she’s hyper focused on something, how right and wrong dissolve away and leave her with only what she wants, and right now what she wants is to disappear inside the pages of Polly’s life, the closest she’s felt to Polly since her parents sent her away.

Betty takes a deep breath, shoves all her swirling thoughts out of her mind, and focuses on the words on the page. _Follow the story, Betty._

She reads:

_Met Jason in FF. Only had twenty minutes together before class. It never feels like enough time._

_Jason snuck me up the back stairs of the BD last night. He’s so incredible. When I’m with him I never want to leave._

_Snuck Jason into the GR on the second floor of the L. No one’s ever in there. We had to be quiet anyway but it was so worth it._

_Jason left another note for me in the box. Almost got caught coming back to the dorms. I wish I could’ve taken it with me but Jason says leaving them in the notebook is safer. He’s probably right but I wish I could keep them anyway to have something to hold onto when we aren’t with each other._

_FF. BD. GR. L._

Betty’s seen all these abbreviations before - in Polly’s copy of The Great Gatsby.

She digs it out of her desk drawer and flips it open, lines it up next to Polly’s notebook. She gets a piece of blank paper and starts lining up the abbreviations and numbers in Polly’s copy of Gatsby with the dates of her journal entries that mention Jason and the abbreviations.

They all match.

Now that she had context it’s easy to figure out what the abbreviations stand for. GR in the L must be the girls room in the library, BD is the boys’ dorm. FF - Fox Forest. It all fits.

Except for the mention of a box. 

But Betty has a hunch about that. She gets out her phone and sends a text, and gets a reply only a minute later. She texts back a confirmation and gets up from her desk to put her shoes on.

“Hey, I need to run to the library to get a book for my History paper,” she says to Veronica. “I’ll be back in a little bit?”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Veronica offers.

“No, it’s fine, I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Veronica gives her a sweet smile as she shrugs. “Okay.”

Betty slips her keys, her phone, and her ID into the back pockets of her jeans, pulls on a sweatshirt, and takes the back stairs to go outside. She walks through the garden behind the dorm and along the tree line instead of cutting through the courtyard until she gets to the edge of the path near Jason’s memorial gazebo that leads into the woods.

She walks far enough into the trees until she can’t see the courtyard, leans against the trunk of a maple and waits. A few minutes later Reggie Mantle ambles into the woods, hands stuffed into the pockets of his letterman jacket.

“You are aware this isn’t protocol,” he says in lieu of greeting. “You leave an order in the box, I fill your order, you pick it up.”

“I’m not interested in placing an order.”

He raises an eyebrow at her as his eyes look her up and down, taking in Polly’s old hoodie and her ragged denim shorts. “Now, don’t take this the wrong way but you don’t strike me as interested in a quickie in the woods. So I gotta ask you Cooper, what’s with the summoning?”

“I have some questions,” she says.

“About?”

“Your box.”

Reggie steps closer, a smirk on his face. “What’s it worth to you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Information always has a price.”

Betty thinks about what she has to trade - she doesn’t have any good gossip, she’s not desperate enough to exchange her body or any kind of sexual activity for what he can tell her. She doesn’t have anything.

And then she remembers the bottle of Adderall buried at the bottom of her backpack, pills she has no intention of taking. “How much can you get for Adderall?”

“I thought you weren’t placing an order.”

“I’m not interested in buying.”

Reggie actually laughs. “You for real?”

“Tell me what I want to know and it’s all yours.”

He looks curious now. “How many you got?”

“Thirty.”

“What’s the dosage? Tens?”

“Twenties.”

“Damn.” He whistles. “How much do you want for them?”

“I thought this was a trade. You tell me what I want to know and they’ll be in your box by tomorrow morning.”

Now he seems a little suspicious. “You don’t even want a cut?”

“This isn’t about money for me.”

He sighs and looks up at the dark sky. “Alright. Must be pretty important to you then.”

“You could say that.” Betty pushes a stray wave behind her ear. “I want to know how you got the box.”

Reggie goes pale. “What?”

“Your dropbox. You started using it last year.”

His posture goes stiff. “So?”

“So who was using the box before you, Reggie? How’d you find out about it?”

He blinks rapidly and to her surprise his shoulders curve forward, his expression unreadable. “Jason Blossom. He used it when we were sophomores, before…”

“So what? You just decided to take over it?”

Reggie shifts back and forth, eyes on his shoes. “It wasn’t exactly a secret, all the guys knew about it. I mean, the guy kept the key on a hook in the storage shed behind our dorm, for fuck’s sake. When we came back for junior year it was still there and it’s not like Jason was gonna be using it…”

Betty swallows down a wave of nausea. “So you go into the woods with the key, open the box, and start using it as your own personable black market.”

“Yeah, so? What do you care, anyway?”

“Reggie.” Betty reaches out with both hands to yank him close to her and by the way his eyes go wide she knows she’s surprised him. “What did you find when you opened the box?”

Reggie winces. “How’d you find out about that?”

She shakes him a little. “That doesn’t matter. Just tell me what you found.”

“His notebook, okay? I only looked in it cus I thought it might have football plays in there, I had no idea he wrote all those love letters to your sister, I swear!”

“Reggie.” Betty’s voice comes out razor sharp. “What the hell did you do with that notebook?”

Reggie’s hands come to her wrists and gently disentangle her fingers from his sweatshirt. “It’s in the storage shed. I felt… it would’ve felt messed up to trash it but I didn’t know what else to do with it.“

“I want it,” Betty demands.

Reggie looks at her carefully. “Are you sure?”

“He wrote letters to my sister in it. It belongs to her.”

He snorts. “You really plan on showing your mental sister love letters from her dead boyfriend?”

“Polly isn’t mental,” Betty hisses. “And don’t worry about what I’m planning to do with it. This is just business, remember?”

“One notebook for thirty Addies?”

“That’s right.”

“Goddamnit.” Reggie kicks at the ground with the toe of his sneaker. “Fine. Let’s go then.”

Betty follows Reggie out of the woods and cuts across the courtyard with him, watches him unlock the combination lock to the shed and tiptoes inside after him. He flicks on a single bulb that hangs from the ceiling and crosses over to some cabinets, opens them and digs through a bunch of papers before pulling out a plain blue spiral notebook.

“Here.” He holds it out to her. “This was the only thing in there, I swear.”

She takes it from him and flips the cover open to skim through the first couple of pages. Everything is written in blocky print with black pen and every entry starts with _Dear Polly_.

“Thank you,” she whispers, and clutches the notebook to her chest.

“I expect a delivery in the morning,” he reminds her.

Betty rolls her eyes. “I’ll take care of it, don’t worry about it.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, then.” He holds out his hand and they shake on it before going back outside.

He waves to her as he opens the side door to the boys dorm and Betty waves back before crossing the courtyard. She lets herself into the dorm with her ID, and slips the notebook into the waistband of her shorts to hide it under her sweatshirt before climbing the stairs and going back to her room.

“What happened?” Veronica asks, still right where Betty left her at her desk. “No book?”

“It was already checked out,” Betty lies.

“Oh, too bad.” Veronica stretches and gets up from her desk. “I’m gonna stop, I’ve been studying so hard my brain feels like it’s going to melt. Let me just wash my face and then maybe we can Netflix for a bit before bed?”

“Sure,” Betty agrees.

As soon as Veronica disappears into the bathroom Betty pulls the notebook out and stares down at it, the words of a dead boy held in her hands, and stuffs it in the bottom of her desk drawer under Polly’s journal until she can figure out what to do with it.


	12. Two of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has trigger warnings that include eating disorder related content and a panic attack.

Early the next morning Betty slips out of the dorm without waking up Veronica and walks through Fox Forest all the way to Reggie’s dropbox. She punches in the code he gave her to the lockbox via a five am wake up text, as if she would forget their deal. She takes out the key, opens the box, slips her bottle of Adderall inside it (label peeled off already just to cover her bases), locks the box back up and shuts the key inside the lockbox.

The whole process takes her less than a minute flat, she flips up the hood of Polly’s sweatshirt and hurries back through the woods to the courtyard but instead of going back to her dorm she walks to the library, it's the one building on campus that opens at six-thirty and doesn’t close until ten at night. She’s the only student there, Betty hurries over to the History section and randomly grabs a book about the fall of the Berlin Wall and checks it out at the front desk.

“Senior year,” she says cheerfully to the sleepy eyed librarian, who’s looking at Betty like she can’t believe she’s really in the library before seven in the morning. “You know how it is.”

The librarian scans her card and nods, like she could care less, and hands Betty back the book, and Betty rushes out of the library.

She takes it back across campus to her dorm, scans her ID to let herself in and jogs upstairs to her room. When she unlocks the door and goes in Veronica’s half-awake, still in the fancy pj set she slept in last night.

“Hey.” Veronica sits up and yawns. “Where the hell did you go so early?”

Betty holds up the book with a flourish. “The library.”

“Oh right, you needed a book.” Veronica stretches and rubs her eyes. “Do you need the bathroom?”

“No, I already showered and brushed my teeth, go ahead.”

Veronica doesn’t bother making her bed before peeling off her pajamas and walking naked to the bathroom while Betty looks away, her cheeks flushing at Veronica’s casual nudity. Once the bathroom door is shut Betty changes into a navy and green plaid skirt and a white button down, and pulls a thin grey crew neck sweater over it. She puts on clean knee socks and her Oxfords, grabs her backpack and makes sure she has everything she needs for the day. 

Veronica is still in the bathroom. Betty glances at the closed door before reaching down and opening her desk drawer. It’s a spur of the moment decision, she digs through the pile of notebooks until she finds Jason Blossom’s and shoves the plain blue spiral into her backpack.

*

She spends the whole day walking around like she has a piece of contraband in her backpack, paranoid and suspicious. Reggie winks at her whenever he sees her around campus and Betty knows he must be thrilled about what she left for him in his box. From his perspective she may as well have left a pile of cash for him for the mere price of a notebook filled with love letters from a dead boy, letters written to her sister that have been sitting there in the storage shed for a whole year.

Betty idly thinks about the possibility of making this a regular arrangement as she picks at her dinner that night, she doesn’t take the Adderall her mother’s doctor prescribes for her anyway and she’s too busy for a part time job, it’d be such an easy way to make money. Reggie would give her a cut so she’d have a steady little cash flow, it’s more profitable than tossing each bottle directly in the trash, anyway.

And then Betty realizes that she isn’t even thinking about dealing, she’s thinking about _supplying_ , and she has to swallow back a wave of hysterical panicked laughter at the thought that she might be even crazier than Polly. If she got caught she could get arrested, hell, she could go to jail. She could lose everything she’s worked her whole life for, see her future burn just because she got a little stupid, a little cocky, lost sight of right and wrong and spiraled down a dark path she can’t come back from.

Just like him.

Bile rises up in her throat. Maybe she isn’t crazy or particularly industrious for coming up with an idea like that.

Maybe she’s just bad.

In five seconds flat she’s having a full blown panic attack, Betty grabs her bag and practically falls out of her chair as she gets up and runs out of the dining hall with one hand clamped over her mouth. She barely makes it to the girls bathroom in time to hunch over a toilet in one of the stalls but nothing comes up except for the few spoonfuls of minestrone soup she’d managed to get down at dinner, the only thing she’s really eaten all day. Her face feels hot but the rest of her is freezing, Betty spits into the toilet and wipes her mouth off with toilet paper before flushing and dragging herself over to the sink.

She’s splashing water on her face when Veronica comes in and slinks around the corner to lean against the wall by the sinks. 

“Are you okay?” Veronica asks quietly.

Betty turns the water off and dries her hands with a paper towel. “Yeah. I think dinner didn’t agree with me.”

Veronica’s eyes go wide. “But you didn’t even eat anything.”

“I had soup.”

“Barely.”

Betty looks down at the floor as she picks up her backpack. “It’s fine, I feel better now.”

“Did you throw up?” Veronica asks bluntly.

Betty’s too shocked to think of lying. “Yeah, a little bit.”

“I’m texting Archie,” Veronica announces, digging into her bag for her phone.

Betty stumbles back. “Why?”

Veronica stares down at her phone as her thumbs fly across the screen. “So he can get you a ginger ale, duh.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Would you shut up and let me take care of you?” Veronica snaps. “You just ran out of dinner to puke, obviously you’re not okay.”

Betty bites the inside of her cheek, waiting until Veronica’s phone dings. Veronica reads whatever Archie replied back and sticks her phone back in her bag. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She doesn’t give Betty a chance to argue before Veronica grabs her by the wrist and yanks Betty out of the bathroom, and Betty is so ashamed that Veronica is seeing her like this that she allows herself to get dragged to the front doors, where Archie meets them holding a can of ginger ale in one hand and a pack of crackers in the other.

“Hey,” he says worriedly, pushing the drink and the food into Veronica’s hands so he can take Betty’s backpack from her. “What happened, did you get sick?”

“It’s not a big deal,” she mumbles.

It’s not that she’s embarrassed about it. She’s known Archie since she was four, they’ve both seen each other throw up before - at Archie’s seventh birthday party when he ate four slices of cake in a row, when Betty got carsick on a school bus on the way back from the Science Museum in sixth grade, the first time they got drunk together at the Riverdale Prep Halloween party Cheryl and Jason threw at Thornhill their sophomore year.

That Night, in Sheriff Keller’s office, the trash can between Archie’s legs because he had to keep leaning forward to throw up into it as Betty recounted what happened to them.

The issue is she can’t tell him why she really got sick. Not in front of Veronica at least, who’s cracking the tab of the ginger ale for her. 

“Here, sip this,” Veronica orders. “You look terrible.”

“I said I’m okay,” Betty protests weakly, taking the ginger ale and pressing the cold can against the inside of her wrist.

“Do you feel like you have the flu or something?” Archie asks. “Did you eat something bad?”

“She didn’t eat anything today so obviously not, get your head out of your ass, Andrews!” Veronica snipes, which makes both Betty and Archie stare at her for a moment before Archie turns back to Betty.

“I thought we talked about this,” he says accusingly. 

Betty looks between him and Veronica, feeling completely trapped. “You’re both being overdramatic. I’m fine.” 

“Girl, please,” Veronica says. “People who are fine aren’t white as a sheet and literally shaking.”

Veronica looks pointedly at the can Betty is holding, her hand trembling so hard she’s almost spilling. Betty feels so humiliated by the betrayal of her body she wishes she could disappear, the fight goes out of her and she slumps towards Archie, who quickly wraps his arm around her.

“Come on,” he says gently. “Let’s go outside.”

Archie leads Betty to the courtyard with Veronica trailing behind them and sits her down on a bench under a tree. He and Veronica sit down on either side of her and Archie reaches across Betty’s lap to take the package of crackers from Veronica and rips them open.

He takes the first one out and holds it out to Betty. “Eat.”

She clutches the can of ginger ale, her chest tight. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Betty.” Veronica sounds kind of upset. “What are you doing?”

Betty knows she shouldn’t be acting like this but right now she can’t make herself care about anything except that Archie is trying to make her do something she doesn’t want to do and she hates it, that feeling of someone trying to manipulate her into following their will. She feels like she’s losing control, she can’t look at either of them because she knows she’ll start crying at the feeling that there’s no way out, literally stuck between two people who won’t let her go and it makes her throat feel like it’s going to close up.

“I can’t,” she pleads.

“Betty, it’s just a cracker,” Archie cajoles. “This doesn’t need to be a big deal.”

“I’m not even allowed to have crackers,” she responds sullenly.

“What the fuck, who says you can’t have crackers?” Veronica says in bewilderment.

“Betty, come on, it's not like your mom will know,” Archie argues.

“Oh trust me, she’ll know,” Betty says ominously.

Veronica makes a disbelieving noise. “Your mom doesn’t let you eat _crackers?_ ”

“You’re going to get me in trouble,” Betty tells Archie.

“You’re going to get _yourself_ in trouble,” he spits back.

“Stop telling me what to do!”

“Oh my god, what are you guys, four?” Veronica comments.

Betty forces herself not to start crying. “Can I read the nutritional info on the package first?”

Archie stares at her. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Archie!” Veronica chastises.

“Please?” Betty asks him tremulously.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he says back. “Seriously, what are you doing? Is this some weird thing where you’re punishing yourself for” -

“Archie, don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence or I swear to god!” Betty has to ball her free hand into a fist so she doesn’t slap him.

“Yeah, okay, I’m gonna go inside and get started on homework and let you guys work out… whatever’s going on here. I’ll see you back at the room, Betty.” Veronica slips off the bench and hurries away towards the girls dorm, leaving Betty to fend for herself. 

Archie shifts sideways on the bench so he’s facing her and holds the first cracker out to her. “Can you please stop fighting with me and eat the fucking crackers already so you don’t pass out later?”

Betty works her jaw. “How many are in there?”

Archie huffs out a breath. “Six.”

“Four,” she counters. “I’ll eat four.”

“Six or I go to Mrs. Burble and tell her you aren’t eating.”

Her jaw drops. “You’d rat me out to the school counselor?”

His eyes go dark. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to make sure I don’t lose you.”

Oh.

Betty can understand that. She knows what that kind of desperation feels like, the things it can make you feel. The things it makes you do. She thinks about how Archie had stared at her That Night after she did it, the shovel still held above her shoulder, his face flashing her looks of shock, horror, and then finally, as he processed what she just did for him, for them - ecstatic relief. 

She did what she had to do. 

“Okay,” she whispers. She’s too tired to fight him anymore.

He shoves the cracker into her hand. “Was that so hard?” 

She glares at him as she brings the cracker to her lips. “ _Yes_.”

He groans quietly and stretches out his right arm so he can wrap it around her shoulders and pull her closer to him. “You know I’ll always be here for you even if you’re mad at me, right?”

Betty sighs and curls into his side, and dares to lick the edge of the cracker. “I’m not mad at you.”

He snorts. “You sure seem mad.”

“I’m mad. Just not at you.”

“Oh,” he says quietly, and tights his arm around her.

Archie sits there patiently while she eats all six crackers in between sips of ginger ale. When she’s finished with everything he throws out her trash for her and walks her to the entrance to her dorm. When she swipes her ID Archie slips in after her, letting the door shut behind them.

“What’re you doing?” she asks.

“Making sure you make it to your room.”

Betty rolls her eyes. “I can walk, you know.”

“Then humor me.”

He follows her up the stairs and down the hall with one hand behind the small of her back, like he really thinks she might fall over. When she gets to her room Betty fishes out her keys and glances at Archie.

“Satisfied?” she asks him. 

He looks seriously annoyed but he nods anyway, and after a few seconds he ducks down to kiss her temple. “See you tomorrow.”

He turns right to take the back stairs out of the dorm and Betty watches him go before unlocking the door to let herself into her room.

*

She and Veronica have already gotten into bed that night and turned the lights off when Veronica whispers, “Betty?”

Betty rolls over so she’s facing her instead of the wall. “Yeah?”

“When did it start?” Veronica asks softly.

“When did what start?”

“Betty, come on.” There’s an edge to her voice. “I’m a teenage girl too, this isn’t exactly my first rodeo.”

“I don’t…”

“I’m not trying to call you out,” Veronica backtracks. “It’s just, come on, we’re roommates. I’ve never seen you do more than pick at a meal, and I’ve seen you change, you’re… you know. I mean, if that’s naturally how your body is then cool, I mean, I know girls from my old school who would kill to look like you. I’m not judging you, I just feel like… if there’s something I need to know, maybe you should tell me.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Betty murmurs. “I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not that point. I want to help.”

“I… it’s just complicated, I guess.”

“Archie knows though? About… whatever is going on?”

“Yeah,” Betty says bitterly. “Archie can be a little… I don't know, let’s just say he doesn’t exactly have a reputation for being a genius but when it comes to being there for his friends there’s no one who will go to the mat for someone he loves like he will.”

“You’re lucky,” Veronica says enviously. “To have a friend like that.”

“Do you miss your old friends in New York?”

Veronica makes a contemplative noise. “I don’t know, some of them. My friend Katy, I guess, she wants to be a designer one day. She’s super sweet. Even after… well, let’s just say, not everyone was kind about it. Most of my friends dropped me as soon as they heard about Daddy. No one wants to be associated with that kind of trouble.”

_Yeah_ , Betty silently agrees. “I’m sorry.”

Veronica sighs. “It is what it is. But we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah,” Betty says softly. “We’re friends.”

“I know you haven’t known me forever like Archie, but you can talk to me,” Veronica offers.

“I know,” Betty says softly. “It’s just… hard to talk about, I guess.”

“I get that. But I’m here for you, okay?”

Betty feels like she might cry. “Thanks.”

“If you… you’d tell me if you needed help or something, right?”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I think the idea is to keep it from getting that bad.”

“I… I appreciate everything you’re saying, I really do, but it’s not like that. I just had a bad day.”

“Okay,” Veronica says uncertainly. 

Veronica falls asleep soon after, leaving Betty in her bed awake, staring up at the ceiling. Her phone buzzes quietly on the dresser and she stretches an arm out to grab it and swipes the screen, she has a text from Jughead: _Hey, you doing okay? Archie said you weren’t feeling well earlier._

Betty stares at the screen for a long time. She doesn’t want to lie, not to Jughead, but she doesn’t want to worry him either, so she settles for honesty and texts back, _I don’t know_.

She watches little grey dots appear until another text from him comes through - _You want to talk about it?_

_I don’t know,_ she texts again.

_Real decisive, Cooper_ , he responds, making her snort quietly.

_Thanks for checking in_ , she texts back. She and Jug don't have the same kind of bond as Betty and Archie but it still matters to her, that he cared enough to ask, that he’s stuck by the two of them through all their shit.

_I’m always here if you need something_ , he replies. 

Betty’s eyes tear up as she types and sends another text. _I know_.

*

The next day Betty breaks out Jason’s notebook whenever she has a few minutes of privacy: at her desk while Veronica is taking a shower, in the bathroom between classes, waiting for Jug in the Blue and Gold. She can’t get farther than the first sentence of each entry, which all start with _Dear Polly._

She doesn’t know if she’s afraid of what she might read or if she’s finally pushing up against some internal boundary she can’t bring herself to cross. As much as she’s curious to the point of obsession there’s a part of her that can’t bear to actually read what Jason wrote to her sister, it makes her feel weird and slimey, intrusive in a way she can’t shake. 

By the time she’s in her room doing homework with Veronica that night she can’t focus on anything. The presence of the notebook hidden inside her French book in her backpack is too distracting and she’s suddenly overcome with the urge to get rid of it, like it’s a bomb that might go off at any time. 

She can’t bring herself to throw it out though, and she can’t mail it to Polly because her mother won’t give her the address of where she’s staying, probably so Betty can’t show up to visit without her mother being able to run interference, and for all Betty knows seeing Jason’s letters might send Polly spiraling into another breakdown.

There’s only one person Betty can think of who she would trust the notebook with, and she really doesn’t want to do it but if she doesn’t get rid of the notebook it might actually make her go insane, so despite her rising anxiety she gets up from her desk and picks up her backpack.

“I told Cheryl she could borrow a book, I’m gonna go give it to her,” she tells Veronica.

“Do you need backup?” Veronica asks, without a trace of sarcasm.

“No, but thanks. I’ll be back in five, okay?”

“If you’re not I’m coming to rescue you,” Veronica replies, and Betty gives her a smile as she goes out of their room.

She rushes down the hall and knocks on Cheryl and Toni’s door. After a few moments it swings open, revealing Cheryl in black and red checked boxer shorts and a lacy black camisole. Behind her Betty can see Toni sitting on her bed studying in a pair of navy Riverdale Prep sweatpants and a tee shirt bearing a big capital S over the chest.

“Cousin!” Cheryl gives Betty a toothy smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Do you have a minute to talk?” Betty asks quietly. 

Cheryl turns back towards Toni. “T.T. could you be a darling and get me a cherry coke from the vending machines?”

Toni gives them a suspicious look but she gets up and sticks her feet into a pair of slippers that must be Cheryl’s, given that they’re red and fluffy. “Sure.”

Betty steps to the side to let Toni out before slipping into their room, where Cheryl’s leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. “I uh, I have something,” Betty starts. “And I think it should be yours.”

Cheryl raises an eyebrow. “And where is this mysterious gift?”

Betty unzips her backpack and takes out Jason’s notebook. “Here.”

Cheryl takes it, her forehead wrinkling up. “And you’re giving me a random notebook why?”

Betty takes a deep breath. “It used to be Jason’s.”

The color drains out of Cheryl’s face as she clutches the notebook to her chest. “What?”

“I… acquired it recently” -

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Betty would prefer to leave Reggie out of her and Cheryl’s family drama, there’s no point in dragging more people into that clusterfuck. “The point is, Jason wrote in it to Polly. I didn’t read it, I swear, just enough to figure out what it was.”

Cheryl blinks watery eyes at her. “You’re giving me J.J.’s notebook?”

“You should have it,” Betty says. “He was your brother.”

Cheryl strokes her finger down the cover of the notebook. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“You’re welcome,” Betty whispers back.

They don’t hug because they never hug, but Cheryl twists her mouth into a sharp smile and gives Betty a featherlight kiss on her cheek before ushering Betty out of her room and slamming the door shut behind her.

Betty goes back down the hallway, waving at Toni as she passes Betty with Cheryl’s cherry coke, and lets herself into her room.

“Hey,” Veronica greets her, looking up from her desk. “Everything go okay?”

“Yeah,” Betty answers faintly. “Everything’s fine.”


	13. Ten of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don’t already know, I took a break from posting for a few months, but I’m happy to announce that I’m back! New chapters of Follow the Light and Just Can’t Stop are on the way :)

When Betty comes back to her room after her last class the next day, there’s a scrunchie over the doorknob.

A scrunchie.

It’s a rich velvety purple, a color Betty admires but would never dare wear - she’s the girl of soft pastels, rainbow skies and flowers. The colors of the various bows and ties that she wears in her hair haven’t changed since she was a child; baby pink, dove grey, sky blue, cream, lavender, mint. 

She never was really brave enough to try a bold color like plum before, and now dark colors like that make her think of blood, anyway. She stays away from red, magenta, burnt sienna, rust. She knows what she looks like in those colors, knows what it’s like to see dried blood stark against the white of her skin.

The scrunchie is Veronica’s, of course.

Betty slowly backs away from the door, mentally scrolling down through the possible guys that could be in there with her: Chuck Clayton, Monroe Moore, Reggie Mantle.

Archie.

Betty spins around and rushes into the common room, her cheeks hot. The only person in here is Ethel, who’s curled up in a chair by the window reading a fantasy paperback. She gives Betty a shy smile as Betty sinks down on one of the couches in front of the coffee table, the one that faces the door, and Betty gives Ethel a tight smile back as she drops her backpack on the floor.

“I have to study,” Betty murmurs apologetically, and Ethel nods and turns back to her book.

Betty unzips her backpack with shaking hands and pulls out her headphones. She connects them to her phone and turns on her music app, slipping in the earbuds as she selects a band at random and taps _play_. She needs something to do, something to distract herself with, but all she has in her backpack is her French book, Polly’s copy of Gatsby, and the notebook she always carries around for brainstorming ideas for the Blue and Gold.

She digs out a purple gel pen and her notebook, spreads it out on her lap and begins to doodle on a blank page. She doesn’t bother going through the pretense of pretending to study, Ethel doesn’t seem to be watching her now and besides, she can’t focus on schoolwork. All she can think about is Archie and Veronica kissing on Veronica’s bed, her old best friend and her new best friend going to a place where Betty cannot follow and leaving her behind.

It’s not that Betty’s jealous, not exactly. She loves Archie, she’ll probably always love Archie, but she isn’t _in_ love with him. They’d never work as a couple now anyway, not after everything they went through That Night. Betty isn’t deluded, she knows that whatever relationship they have now is as close as they'll ever be, and she’s made her peace with that for the most part.

But she doesn’t know if she’s ready for him to care more about another girl than he does about her. Especially a girl like Veronica, someone wealthy and gorgeous, who oozes luxury from her perfect poreless skin.

Okay. So maybe Betty is a little jealous.

She keeps one eye on the open door, glancing up every few seconds to catch a sliver of Veronica walking him out of their dorm, but by the time dinner rolls around Betty realizes Veronica must have snuck him out the back so she goes down to the dining hall with Ethel.

Veronica is waiting for her outside the doors to the dining hall, leaning casually against the wall looking like an advertisement for Riverdale Prep with her shiny hair and her navy blue knee socks. When she spots Betty she makes a relieved sound and walks over to her and Ethel, arms outstretched to hug Betty.

“There you are! What happened to you, I haven’t seen you since French!”

Ethel murmurs goodbye and slinks off into the dining room while Betty struggles to let Veronica hug her, her traitorous heart revolting against accepting the affections of a girl who probably just made out with Archie Andrews.

“I was studying in the common room,” she mumbles as she pulls away.

“Well come on, I’m starving.” Veronica loops her arm through Betty’s and it makes her second guess herself a little, wondering if Veronica is going to confess to the tryst she just had in their room, she must know Betty saw the scrunchie. “What’s her deal, by the way?”

“Who, Ethel?”

“The one who looks terrified every time she sees me.”

“Don’t take it personally, she’s like that with everyone,” Betty tells Veronica quietly as they enter the dining room and walk towards the line, making sure Ethel isn’t within earshot. “She had a really bad sophomore year, I don’t think she ever really recovered.”

“What happened?”

“Her dad lost a ton of money,” Betty murmurs as she grabs a bowl for a salad. “He tried to kill himself.”

Veronica frowns and scoops heirloom potatoes onto her plate. “What’s her last name again?”

Betty heaps her bowl high with romaine. “Muggs.”

An expression crosses over Veronica’s face, too quickly for Betty to decipher its meaning. “Oh,” she says flatly, and drops a baked chicken breast onto her plate.

When Betty’s finished putting together her salad she and Veronica walk over to their table, where the guys have beaten them there and are digging into their burgers, pizza slices, wedges of lasagna. The smells make Betty dizzy as she sits down next to Kevin, carefully watching Veronica as she sits down in between Betty and Archie.

Veronica and Archie both act normal: a smile, a head nod, Veronica making a joke about something that happened in their psychology class while cutting her chicken. If they did hook up earlier they’re both really good at acting like nothing’s going on.

Betty tries to eat but her stomach hurts and she can’t follow what the rest of her friends are talking about. She doesn’t really understand why she feels this bad, because she’s not jealous, it doesn’t hurt her feelings for Archie to like another girl. It’s more like the dynamic feels thrown off balance, the scales suddenly tipping in a different direction and she’s having trouble adjusting. She’s been through so much change in the past year that this feels like a little too much for her, her system already overloaded. 

And then she feels guilty, because if anyone deserves to move on and be happy, it’s Archie.

She sips her water and cuts her salad up, occasionally forcing down a slice of cucumber or a tofu cube, hoping no one notices how she’s acting, but they’re all talking about the away game the football team has tomorrow anyway. 

Her phone buzzes on the table.

Betty lifts it up with the tip of one finger just enough to read the number on the screen - _Blocked_. She pulls her finger away like it’s been burned and lets her phone clunk back down, rests her forehead in her hands and takes a deep breath.

“Betty?” Veronica’s hand is gentle on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Betty squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. “I have a stomachache.”

“Is that why you aren’t eating?”

Betty jolts a little at the realization that Veronica’s been surreptitiously clocking her movements during dinner. “I’m just not, uh, feeling that well.”

“Do you want me to get you anything?” Veronica asks.

Betty inhales sharply. “I’m gonna get some more water.”

“I can get it for you” -

“It’s fine, I can do it.” Betty pushes away from the table and picks up her empty cup. “I’ll be right back.”

She takes her phone with her and immediately deletes the call from her history as she weaves in between tables towards the drink station. To get there she has to walk right between the two tables claimed by The Bulldogs and The Vixens, a gauntlet of popularity she has to survive. She keeps her head down and speeds up, quickly walking past Cheryl, who’s sitting on the edge of one table near Chuck and Reggie. Betty doesn’t make eye contact as she passes them and just when she thinks she’s escaped she feels a hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, where are you going so fast, Cooper?” 

She looks up into the eyes of Chuck Clayton. “Just getting more water,” she says quietly.

“Come sit with us for a minute.” He slings his arm around her shoulders.

“No, thank you,” she whispers.

“Aw, c’mon.” He gives her a smile that makes her feel cold all over. “I thought the Cooper girls all liked to have fun. You look like you could use a little fun.” 

“I just want to get a drink,” she pleads softly, praying for someone to rescue her.

“In a minute.” His voice is a little sharp. “C’mon Betty, it’s senior year. Don’t you want to have fun?”

“Can I go please?” she whispers.

“What’s the matter? Are you too good for us or something? You think after that fancy LA internship you did, you’re hot shit now?”

She shakes her head, her hand clenched around her empty cup.

“What was that?” Chuck asks, like he’s taunting her. “No?”

“I didn’t say that,” she croaks. “I don’t think that.”

Cheryl swings down from the table and crosses her arms, looking annoyed. “Back off Clayton, you’re scaring her.”

“Aw, c’mon, me? I’m harmless. I just figured, you know, Polly always liked it.”

Betty goes rigid. “What?”

Chuck grins. “Oh yeah, your sister liked to get _down_. Figured you might be the same.”

“Hands, Chuck,” Cheryl snaps, and he rolls his eyes but he removes his arm from Betty’s shoulders and takes a few steps back.

“That’s better.” Cheryl smiles, slow and venomous. “Besides, you’re wrong. Betty’s practically as pure as the Virgin Mary. It’s Polly who’s the whore.”

The entire cafeteria blurs around Cheryl as rage crashes over Betty. “What did you just say?”

Cheryl gives her a satisfied smirk. “You heard me. Your sister. Is a _whore_.”

The rage takes over and Betty lunges for Cheryl but Reggie catches her from behind, his arms around her waist as he drags her back a few paces. She fights weakly, eyes focused on Cheryl, the only thing she cares about, ready to defend Polly’s honor even if it ends in a full out beatdown.

“Take a breath,” Reggie says in her ear.

“I’m fine,” she mutters.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Let me go,” she demands.

As soon as his arms leave her body she goes flying at Cheryl, who shrieks and ducks her head, but Reggie catches Betty in his arms before she can land a hit, her toes dangling a few inches off the floor, and carries her backwards.

“Let it go, let it go, she’s not worth it,” he says to her.

“I don’t care!” Betty screams and hurls her cup at Cheryl.

“Oh shit!” Reggie carries her away, arms locked around her. “Calm down, Cooper.”

“Put me down!” She squirms in his hold, desperate to get free. 

“Okay, just be cool!” he says as he sets her down on her feet and starts pulling her towards the doors.

“I hate her,” Betty seethes as he tugs her through the dining room, his hand clamped around her forearm.

“Yeah, I got that,” he mutters. “But you know what they say, violence isn’t the answer.”

“She called Polly a” -

“Yeah, yeah, I heard. I get it.”

“Betty!” Veronica catches up to them at the front entrance, Betty’s backpack held in her outstretched hand. “What’s going on? Cheryl’s screaming about how you just tried to kill her.”

Betty groans as she takes her backpack. “Thanks.”

Reggie squeezes her shoulder. “Your girl hulked out.”

“Cheryl deserved it,” Betty grumbles.

“You threw a cup at her,” he points out.

Veronica stares at her. “You what?”

“She called my sister a whore!” Betty hisses.

Veronica flinches. “Harsh.”

Reggie glances at Veronica. “You got this?”

“Yeah.” Veronica loops her arm through Betty’s. “Come on, Betty.”

*

“So you guys really don’t get alone,” Veronica says to Betty that night, when they’re in the bathroom brushing their hair. “You and Cheryl.”

“Nope,” Betty mutters, pulling her hair back into a ponytail.

“What’s her problem with your sister? Polly, right?” 

“Yeah. Cheryl hates her. She hates me, too. They all do.”

“The Blossoms?”

“Mhmm.”

Veronica frowns as she whips her brush through her hair. “Why?”

Betty ties off her ponytail with a pale pink hair elastic. “She blames my family for what happened to Jason.”

Veronica sets her brush down on the edge of the sink. “Kevin said Jason was murdered by some crazy person.”

“He was.” 

“Okay...?”

Betty looks at Veronica and wonders if it’s only a matter of time before she finds out anyway. Betty’s so tired of it all, lying to Veronica and covering up things that her parents have done. Her whole life revolves around them, it always has, she was her mother’s perfect little doll and her father’s protégé, trained to become like him without even knowing it until That Night in the woods beyond the side of the highway, Archie kneeling in front of her with a gun pointed at his forehead.

Her destiny, laid out right in front of her by her father. The two kinds of people Betty could be.

God, Betty’s so tired. She just wants it to be over. She’ll never really be free until it feels over.

“My dad did it,” she says softly.

Veronica stares at her. “What?”

It’s like falling and surrendering to it, letting the vertigo take over and sending her head spinning. “My dad killed Jason Blossom.”

Veronica’s mouth drops open. “What? _Why?_ ”

“Jason and Polly fell in love. My dad found out.”

“But… Polly’s your sister. I thought Jason was your cousin. Her cousin, ew, oh my god, seriously. I mean, no offense, may he rest in peace and all that.”

“He is… was. But none of us knew back then. There was some huge feud a few generations back that divided the family, that’s why we have different last names. My parents knew, but none of us - Polly and Cheryl and I didn’t find out until after Jason died.”

“So your dad… killed him?” Veronica doesn’t look shocked exactly, more like it’s slowly sinking in, her eyes getting incrementally wider.

“My dad… he had a kind of sick sense of personal ethics. And he hated the Blossoms. When he found out about Jason and Polly he… he just went crazy.”

“Oh my god.” Veronica rubs her temples. “Wait, but Betty….”

“What?”

Veronica looks like she might cry. “Kevin said… he said the person who killed Jason was like, some crazy serial killer…”

Betty grips the edge of the sink. “Jason… wasn’t the only one.”

To Betty’s shock Veronica steps forward and wraps her up in a hug. She’s so confused she goes limp, letting Veronica run her hand down her ponytail and bury her face in Betty’s neck.

“I’m so sorry,” Veronica whispers fiercely. “God Betty. “You must have been terrified of him.”

“I’m okay,” Betty lies, because she isn’t ready to have _that_ conversation.

“Where’d they send him?” Veronica murmurs, a question only a person who's had experience with the system would ask.

“Upstate.”

“Have you ever visited him?”

Betty shakes her head vehemently, afraid she’s about to dissolve into tears but Veronica just holds her tighter.

“Good,” Veronica says, in a way that makes Betty’s spine turn to ice. “That’s good.”

*

“You told her what?” Archie splutters. “Have you gone completely crazy?”

They’re walking on the path in the woods before breakfast with cups of coffee they picked up from the stand in the dining hall, already dressed in uniform for the day, yawning in the early morning light.

“I just told her about Jason,” Betty says quickly. “Not about… the other stuff.”

Archie rubs his eyes. “So she doesn’t know about That Night?”

“Of course not.” Betty takes a sip of her coffee. “I’d never… what happened That Night stays between us. She doesn’t need to know about that. No one needs to know”

“Good,” he says stiffly. “So why’d you tell her in the first place?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs. “I just… keeping everything from her is exhausting. She’s told me about her family and I just… didn’t want to have to lie about everything anymore.”

He kicks halfheartedly at a rock. “Yeah, I get that.”

“I’m sorry,” she says in a small voice. “I should've asked you first.”

“Hey, c’mon.” He shakes his head. “He’s your - you make the calls here, okay? Whatever you want to do, I have your back.”

“Thanks.” Betty takes another sip of her coffee. “So you and Veronica…”

Archie works his jaw. “Yeah, actually we need to talk about that.”

Betty’s stomach tightens. “Is this about the scrunchie I found on my door yesterday?”

He crinkles his forehead. “Huh?”

“The girls put it on their doors when they have a guy in their room.”

“Oh.” Archie nods vaguely. “The guys use ties.”

“Archie! Focus!”

“What? Oh…” His cheeks flush. “Look, she and I agreed I’d be the one to tell you.”

Betty takes a big sip of coffee but when she swallows all she tastes is bile. “Tell me what?”

“We’re…” Archie’s expression is terribly gentle. “I asked her out after our last class yesterday.”

Betty breathes through the sharpness in her chest. “You didn’t even ask me first.”

“I didn’t know I needed your permission to ask a girl out,” he mutters.

“She’s my roommate, you could’ve at least told me first.”

“Sorry.” His mouth twists to the side. “I wasn’t… we aren’t keeping it a secret or anything.”

Betty nods, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. “Okay.”

“Are you mad?” Archie asks hesitantly.

“No, of course not.” Betty feels a stab of guilt. “It’s good, you deserve to, you know, be happy. Move on.”

“Hey. Betty.” Archie opens his arms slowly and stands there, letting Betty choose to slowly curl into his body. He wraps his arms arounds her, careful not to spill his coffee. “I’ll always love you, you know that, right?”

Betty leans her head on his shoulder. “I know. I love you, too.”

*

The football team and the Vixens get on the bus for their away game that afternoon, leaving the dining hall eerily quiet that night during dinner. Betty picks at her quinoa salad, listening to Veronica try to coax her, Kevin and Jughead into going out somewhere later.

“C’mon, please!” Veronica begs between bites of her spaghetti carbonara. “We could go into the city, it would be so much fun!”

“Yeah, no, I’m good.” Jughead wipes pizza grease off his fingers and looks past Betty at something. “I’ve got plans anyway.”

“Kevin?” Veronica asks hopefully.

He gives her a devilish grin. “I could be convinced.”

Toni Topaz comes over and plops down in Archie’s empty chair. “Ready to roll, Jones?”

Jughead nods and drops his napkin onto his empty plate. “Yeah.”

“Where’re you going?” Betty asks, feeling a little abandoned.

Toni gives her a smile that’s just a little cold. “Out.”

Jughead walks around the table and squeezes Betty’s shoulder as Toni gets up from her seat. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

She looks up and he’s giving her a gentle smile.“Okay,” she says softly.

She watches him and Toni leave, catching up with Sweet Pea and Fangs on their way out the door. Next to her Veronica pushes her tray away and claps her hands together. “Okay! Betty, you in? Say you’re in!”

“I don’t know,” Betty hedges. “Where downtown?”

Veronica grins devilishly. “I know a place.”

“What kind of place?”

“A kind of place where we could have some _fun._ ” Veronica winks at her.

“C’mon, Betty,” Kevin whines. “I need to have some fun, like real fun, you know what I mean? With a guy, preferably. “

“Hell yes,” Veronica cheers, a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Trust me, where we’re going there will be plenty of dick, and drinks.” 

“Are we talking about sneaking into a bar?” Betty whispers.

“More like a club,” Veronica says casually. “And there will be no sneaking. We’re gonna walk right in.”

“Really?” Betty asks doubtfully. “How?”

“Come with us and find out,” Veronica says coyly.

“We’re seniors, Betty, c’mon,” Kevin begs, smiling hopefully. “After last year” -

“Yeah, Kevin, I get it.” Betty taps her fingers against the table and looks at Veronica. “Swear everything’ll be cool.”

“Pinky promise,” Veronica says solemnly, and she and Betty wrap their pinkies around each other’s and kiss them.

“Okay.” Betty shrugs and gives Kevin a grin. “Guess we're going out tonight.”

*

“You should totally borrow something of mine,” Veronica offers when she and Betty are standing in front of their closet. 

Veronica’s wearing a rose gold and white lace bodysuit and nothing else and Betty’s in her underwear, scanning her closet for anything that would be even remotely appropriate for a club and coming up with pretty much nothing.

Betty shrugs. “Okay. Thanks.”

Veronica holds up a shiny red dress that dips low in the front. “What about this?”

“Um…” Betty stares at the dress, trying to find a polite way to say no.

“Too flashy?” Veronica shoves the dress back in her closet. “You’re right, not your style. What about something more classic, like… this?”

She pulls out a strapless bodycon style dress that actually looks conservative for the kind of party dress Veronica would own - a plain midnight blue, no sleeves but it looks like it would cover all her cleavage, and a skirt that isn’t terribly short.

“You could put on a sick necklace or something,” Veronica advises. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, let me try it on.” Betty takes the dress from Veronica and slips it off the hanger, unzips it, steps through the bundle of fabric and pulls the dress up her hips. “What do you think?”

Veronica tilts her head as she steps into a tiny pair of black leather shorts and pulls them up. “Girl, c’mere, let me zip you up.”

Betty obediently walks over and turns around. She shivers at the feel of Veronica’s hands on her bare back, one finger running up her spine. Veronica presses one hand against Betty’s ribs and slowly drags her hand down the dip of Betty’s waist all the way down to the sharp curve of her hip.

“I can see all the bones in your back.” Veronica’s standing so close to her that Betty can feel her breath on her neck as Veronica whispers to her. 

Betty shrugs, because what is she supposed to say? She stands there, bones exposed, wondering if Veronica is going to turn away in revulsion, or cry, or lecture her, but Veronica just sighs and stands like that for a moment, her hands gentle on Betty’s body.

“Okay,” she says eventually. “Let’s zip you up.”

They do their makeup in the bathroom, pop music blasting from Veronica’s speakers. They open a pack of Betty’s old crystals from cheer and stick them to the corners of their eyes, smear glittery pink highlighter under the arches of their eyebrows and their cheekbones, paint their lips with matte liquid lipstick, Betty choosing a deep rose and Veronica a berry color so dark it’s almost black.

“What do you think,” Betty says to Veronica, holding her hair up in a makeshift ponytail. “Hair up or down?”

“Why don’t you leave it down?” Veronica suggests. “You always have it up.”

“True.” Betty lets her hair drop and messes it around with her fingers so it looks sexy-messy and not messy-messy.

“What’s up with the ponytail, anyway?” Veronica asks as she slides an oversized pearl studded clip into her hair. 

“I don’t know. I guess it’s always been kind of my signature look.”

Veronica looks sideways at her and grins. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Betty decides to leave it down anyway, just so Veronica won’t think that Betty’s so uptight that she has to wear her hair the same way every single time.

They both shove cash, their student IDs, keys and their phones inside tiny bags and put on high heels, make sure everything in the room is shut before locking up their dorm room. Laurie’s so chill that they don’t have to tell her they’re leaving as long as they sign out on the board in the front and sign back in before curfew so they walk right down the hall, stopping to say hi to Josie when she comes out of her room. 

“And where are you two ladies going tonight?” she asks curiously.

Veronica glances sideways at Betty, and when she nods Veronica smiles at Josie. “We’re going clubbing tonight downtown with Kevin, want to come?”

“Hell yes!” Josie beams and waves them towards her door. “Let me just change. The girls are out, come on in.”

Betty and Veronica follow Josie into the triple she shares with Melody and Valerie. They sit on Josie’s bed while she wriggles out of the bathrobe she’s wearing and changes into a neon orange leopard print mini dress and slides her kitten headband into her curls.

“Almost done,” Josie announces, and gestures at her face. “Gotta glam it up a little.”

Veronica whistles. “Yes, girl!”

Josie takes glittery gold highlighter and dabs it above her eyebrows, down the center of her nose, her cheekbones, and her Cupid’s bow, and sticks on a pair of false lashes with a dexterity Betty envys.

“You look amazing,” she tells Josie. Betty is in awe of girls like Josie, and Veronica, who have such bold, confident styles, like they aren’t at all afraid of being looked at.

Josie smiles as she straps on a pair of black heels. “Thanks, Betty. Love the dress.”

“Oh, it’s not mine, it’s Veronica’s.”

“And she looks beautiful in it, right?” Veronica beams.

“Totally.” Josie slips her phone into a cross body bag and smiles excitedly. “Okay, I’m ready to go!”

They head downstairs to sign out and go meet Kevin by the entrance to the boys’ dorm. He’s dressed perfectly for a club, skin tight dark jeans and a lavender button down with the sleeves rolled up.

“Oh yeah,” Kevin grins as he slings one arm around Josie’s shoulders and the other around Betty’s. “Are we a sexy little group or what?”

“You guys are going to have the best night ever, I promise!” Veronica skips next to them on the path that leads to the front gate.

“Where are we going, exactly?” Josie asks.

“A club,” Kevin says gleefully. “Like a legit, New York City club.”

“Uh, do we have a plan?” Josie asks nervously.

“I’m handling it,” Veronica says flippantly, texting on her phone. “Trust me darlings, I wouldn’t give my new besties anything but the VIP treatment.”

The car Veronica ordered for them is waiting for them at the curb when they go through the school gates, a black SUV with its hazards on. Veronica loops her arm through Betty’s, her eyes twinkling with excitement. 

“Lodge?” she calls out towards the car.

The driver gives Veronica a thumbs up through his open window and opens the door to the backseat for them. Kevin grabs Josie’s hand and he swoops in to kiss Veronica’s cheek before climbing into the car with Josie.

The crystals on Veronica’s face shimmer as she leans in to press her cheek against Betty’s. “Come on Cinderella, your carriage awaits.”

Betty smooths her hands down the dress Veronica gave her. “Okay Fairy Godmother,” she says affectionately, and lets Veronica lead her towards the car.


	14. Three of Cups

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being pretty much all Beronica, which I did not plan (this isn’t actually going to be a Beronica fic but the vibes just keep showing up), and I’m not sorry about it lol.

The car Veronica called takes them towards the city and eventually into the gridlock of Manhattan, Betty and Kevin’s faces plastered to the windows to watch bright lights blur past while Josie and Veronica chat casually and act unimpressed by the magic of New York City lit up at night. After half an hour of stop and go traffic, crawling forward a few feet at a time, a line of cars as far as Betty can see, the SUV pulls up in front of a club (no signage, just a door roped off with a bodyguard) with a line of gorgeous skimpily dressed people winding halfway down the block.

“We’re here!” Veronica squeals, thanking the driver before opening the door.

They all pile out after Veronica and look towards the line, which Veronica ignores in favor of waking right towards the entrance where a huge ebony skinned man in a black suit is checking ID’s.

“Uh, Veronica?” Betty skips to keep up with her. “The line?”

“Betty, I’m a Lodge. We don’t do lines.” Veronica says this as if it’s completely normal.

Betty glances over her shoulder to throw Kevin and Josie an uncertain look as they follow Veronica past the line towards the entrance. The doorman sees them and Betty braces herself but his face splits into a wide smile as he gestures at Veronica.

“Get over here, girl!” he calls out, and opens his arms to her. Veronica squeals and throws herself at the door guy, who picks her up by the waist and twirls her around before giving her a bear hug.

“Meet my new friends!” Veronica exclaims, gesturing at them. “Guys, come on.”

She waves them over and they all obediently line up in front of Veronica, who beams proudly at them and holds out her wrist to the doorman, who laughs and shakes his head.

“You gonna be a good girl tonight?” he asks Veronica, faux stern as he puts a hot pink wristband on her. 

“Oh please, I’m always good,” Veronica says with a sweet smile.

Kevin, Josie and Betty all get matching wristbands without getting carded and the door is held open for them while the crowd in line boos loudly.

“Come on!” Veronica calls, and they follow her inside, duckling like, obediently falling into step.

They shuffle through a dark hallway that opens into the club. Betty looks around in wonder: the furniture is all dark leather, the floor is black marble, neon lights spinning around the room that catch the faces of the people on the dance floor and beyond that Betty can make out the bar that runs along the back wall, a gleaming white ship in a sea of black with matching white stools.

“Veronica!” A young woman with golden skin and black hair, tall and thin like a model, wobbles over to Veronica in insanely high heels, the skirt of her black dress riding up and exposing the gap between her thighs. “Where've you been, girl?”

“Rosa, oh my god, I haven’t seen you in forever! Hi!” Veronica clutches the other girl’s arms and says something in rapid fire Spanish that makes Rosa laugh.

“C’mon, I’ve got a VIP table waiting for you,” she tells Veronica.

Rosa gives them all a bright smile and leads them around the edge of the dance floor and over to the far right corner of the bar. She takes them up a few steps and pushes a gauzy black curtain away to reveal a private alcove with a horseshoe shaped leather banquette set around a circular black and white marbled table.

“Saskia will be back with your usual,” she tells Veronica, and slips away with a wink, leaving them to sit down and take in the pounding of the music and the swirl of the lights filtering through the curtains that makes their skin flicker neon green and orange and blue.

“Girl, is this what your life was life before Riverdale?” Josie asks, sinking down on the leather seat next to Kevin. “Skipping lines and VIP booths?”

Veronica sighs wistfully as she pulls Betty down to sit next to her. “And oh, what a life it was.”

Josie offers her a sympathetic smile. “Are you applying to New York schools?”

Veronica shakes her head. “Harvard. Early decision. You?”

“Oberlin, Columbia, Julliard, Yale, and NYU are my top five.”

“Nice,” Veronica says appreciatively. “You want to go to Yale too, Betty, right?”

“Yeah.” Betty tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, she isn’t used to having it down and it makes her feel a little self-conscious. “I might apply to Northwestern too, maybe Brown and Princeton. I haven’t decided yet.”

“Betty, you so don’t need to worry about your safeties,” Kevin advises. “You’re totally getting into Yale.”

Betty shrugs nervously, she doesn’t want to bring up the fact that an institution like Yale might not want the daughter of a serial killer on their campus. “Not necessarily.”

“It’s so weird that we might all be in different places next year,” Josie comments.

“I can’t believe I only get a year with you guys,” Veronica pouts, and then slings her arms around Betty and Kevin. “Oh, well, guess I’ll have to make the most of it!”

Betty feels it then, that warm pull towards Veronica she get sometimes, when it’s just too hard to resist Veronica’s enthusiasm and charm. She’s _fun_ , in a way that Betty had sort of forgotten about. After That Night she stumbled around in shock for a few days while her mother kept her inside and packed up her bags for her, then shipped her off to LA where Betty worked six days a week, running around the city hungry for something food couldn’t satisfy so she did her best to eschew it altogether while her family, the Blossoms and the Andrews were tied up with the court case in Riverdale that entire summer.

She had forgotten what it felt like, to belong, to be young and beautiful and for things to feel easy. She relaxes into Veronica’s side, finally letting herself get excited to be out tonight. She should be excited, she’s in a cool club with her new best friend, it’s a Friday night and she’s single, she should be thrilled to get away from campus like this.

It’s just that there’s a part of her always looking in the shadows now, wherever she goes. Even though she knows where he is, locked away where he can’t hurt anyone anymore, she’s always a little afraid now that somehow he’s gotten out, he’s found her and he’s finally going to punish her for what she did to him That Night.

Like he’s just biding his time, waiting for her to slip up again.

Another model-like woman wearing a similar dress as Rosa’s and blond milkmaid braids pushes through the gauzy curtain barrier holding a tray of shot glasses. “Strawberry shortcake shots for my favorite girl!”

Veronica squeals with delight as the shots (eight of them, Betty notes) get placed on the table. “God, I’ve missed this city.”

Their server blows Veronica a kiss. “Best city in the world. Gotta check on my other tables, we’re slammed tonight. Have fun babies, enjoy your drinks!”

She disappears through the curtains as Veronica leans forward to slide shots towards everyone. “Here guys, ready for round one?”

Betty picks up her drink and marvels at it. The drink itself is a cream and pink swirl, topped with whipped cream and garnished with sliced strawberries. “What is this?”

Veronica laps at her whipped cream. “Strawberry shortcake shots. You’ll love them.”

“No, I mean, what’s in them?”

“Oh.” Veronica gives her a sly smile. “Vodka and strawberries.”

“Okay.” Betty looks down at her shot again, factoring in the whipped cream, the amount of sugar it must have. She can’t refuse it though, not in this situation, and she didn’t really eat her dinner so it’s okay, she decides, she already has a calorie deficit, she can make an exception for something this beautiful and special.

The four of them hold their shots out and clink their glasses together before bringing the rims to their lips and tilting their heads back. Betty’s shot goes down smooth and sweet, like strawberries with a bite, her lips and tongue slick and sweet with whipped cream. She can feel the liquor go straight to her head; she presses her palm against her forehead at the rush, heat flooding her body.

Veronica squeals and tangles her arms around Betty’s waist. “We’re gonna have the best night!”

They stay in their little alcove for awhile, gossiping about school, who’s secretly hooking up with who, who’s selling weed out of their dorm room, who’s on academic probation. Kevin and Josie start telling Veronica funny stories about things that happened before she came to Riverdale Prep, like when Reggie came to class last year hungover from the night before and puked in the middle of first period pre-calc, Cheryl Blossom throwing a screaming fit at Weatherbee sophomore year when he didn’t approve the new Vixens uniforms because he thought they were _a touch too salacious to be appropriate for high school_ , when Jughead got a higher grade than Donna Sweet on their first test of the year in English Lit after she transferred from Stonewall Prep and she was so upset she threw a rock at him, right at his head, in the courtyard after dinner that night and got detention.

Betty curls up next to Veronica and listens, focusing on the warmth of Veronica’s arm around her shoulders, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes against Betty’s skin. Betty misses this, the feeling of curling up with another girl, the way she and Polly used to snuggle together on the couch or in the backseat of the car or hiding in the closet if one of their parents was in a particularly bad mood. She’s never had a female friend that she was physically close to like this before and it makes her want to melt into Veronica, hide in her soft skin and curves and shining hair. 

“C’mon, let’s do our next shot!” Veronica squeezes Betty’s shoulder and pulls away.

Betty sits up, obediently takes the shot that Veronica hands her and does it along with everyone else. She’s warm all over now, loose and relaxed and when Veronica suggests checking out the dance floor Betty lets herself get pulled up and they walk through the curtains and down the little flight of steps to the edge of the dance floor.

Of course Kevin and Veronica run right into the crush of people grinding on top of each other, pulling Josie and Betty along so they don’t get separated, hands clutching each other’s as they carve out a little space for themselves. Veronica throws her arms up in delight and twirls before pulling Betty to her so they can dance with their stomachs pressed together, Veronica’s hands on Betty’s hips. Betty can feel the vibrations of the music coming up from the floor, the firm grip of Veronica’s fingers curled around her hip bones, the smooth vodka heat lighting her up from the inside out.

Veronica rests one hand against the side of Betty’s head and puts her lips close to Betty’s ear. “Are you having a good time?” She shouts over the music.

“Yes!” Betty shouts back, letting her hips swing in time to Veronica’s.

Veronica smiles and kisses Betty’s cheek before spinning around in a slow circle, lights flashing across her bodysuit, her perfect face tilted back. “I’m so happy right now!”

Betty lets the rhythm of the music move her body as she slowly turns, feeling it when Veronica presses up against her, her chest against Betty’s back. Betty rolls her hips and Veronica wraps her arms around her from behind, her chin coming to rest on Betty’s shoulder as they move together.

“I made out with Archie,” Veronica confesses, just loud enough for Betty to hear over the music.

Betty lets her head fall back a little, staring up at the swirling colors moving above her. “I know.”

Veronica’s lips brush the shell of her ear. “Are you mad?”

Betty shakes her head, her hair tickling her cheeks. “It’s okay, he told me.”

Veronica’s arms tighten around her. “Promise?”

Betty wonders why it’s so important to Veronica how Betty feels but it’s sweet, that she cares so much. “Promise.”

When they need a break from dancing they go back to their table and find another round of drinks has been left for them on the table. “I love the service here,” Veronica says dreamily, passing the shots out.

Betty hesitates before taking the shot, she drinks at parties sometimes but usually stops at one, she knows between her weight and her empty stomach her tolerance is on the low side. But she also wants to keep the night going, wants to give into the fantasy that Veronica is offering here, where drinks are made like desserts and colored lights shine and shine and no one here knows who she is.

“Betty, c’mon, do your shot!” Veronica coaxes, and Betty tosses it back like a good little girl taking her medicine.

They hang out in the booth, sweaty from dancing and starting to shift from tipsy into flat out drunk. They take selfies together on Veronica’s phone, sing along to the music, laugh and roll around on the banquette like idiots. Saskia comes back while they’re texting Archie to see if the Bulldogs won their game, holding two baskets of mini grilled cheese sandwiches and a bottle of Dom Pérignon.

“I love you,” Veronica proclaims, scrambling across the booth to grab a champagne glass.

Veronica’s phone pings with a text and Betty looks at the screen, it’s a text from Archie declaring victory, complete with a photo one of the Vixens took right after they won of him and Reggie, helmets dangling from their hands as they press their foreheads together, grinning like crazy and high giving with their free hands.

“They won!” Betty calls out, and Veronica squeals.

“Saskia, pop that baby! Betty, will you text Archie congrats for me?” Veronica asks, eyes on the champagne.

“Sure,” Betty murmurs, trying not to focus on how weird the request makes her feel. She types _Veronica says congrats! - Betty_ , hits send, and puts Veronica’s phone down, she doesn’t want to think too hard about Archie and Veronica dating, she isn’t mad about it but it’s still going to take her a little time to get used to them being together.

Saskia expertly pops the cork to the champagne bottle and Veronica shrieks, “Here, here!” and tilts her head back so Saskia can pour foam directly into her mouth while Kevin claps and Betty takes a picture on her phone. 

“I’ll put tonight on your tab, okay?” Saskia says to Veronica.

“Of course, thanks girl,” Veronica answers.

Betty wonders why it didn’t occur to her how they would be paying, the cost of three rounds of cocktails plus an expensive bottle of champagne must be huge, but Veronica acts like it’s nothing and it’s easy to be casual about money when you’re out with someone who can afford to buy anything she wants. Betty vaguely wonders how Veronica has any money now, she knows firsthand that legal fees can bleed a family dry, not to mention the restitution the Lodge family must have had to pay for her father’s crimes. But Jug said Lodge Industries was a multi-billion dollar company, the kind of allowance Veronica could have even after her family’s problems is probably astronomical anyway.

The sandwiches get passed around and Betty can’t help herself, she’s so hungry and she takes two right away, each one a little triangle the size of her palm. She moans when she bites into the first one, drunk enough to not analyze her actions or feel afraid, because her stomach is clenching greedily and the alcohol makes her want to eat so badly her mouth is watering. It tastes like melted butter and grease, sourdough and melted cheese and she could eat an entire basket right here but Veronica shoves a glass of champagne into her hands as soon as she’s done with her second sandwich.

“No, I can’t!” Betty protests through giggles, there’s no way she can drink more without getting hopelessly shitfaced. “Veronica I’m going to be so drunk.”

“It’s Friday night, who cares? We can sleep in tomorrow.” Veronica takes a sip of the champagne and tilts it towards Betty. “C’mon, don’t leave me hanging here! We can share.”

Betty can’t help herself, she parts her lips and lets Veronica tilt the champagne right into her mouth. It’s cool and sweet and Betty almost chokes on it, laughing as Veronica quickly pulls the glass away before she can spill it everywhere. They split the glass while Kevin and Josie sip away at their own while dancing in their seats, arms flying around, eyes half shut. Veronica reaches for a sandwich and Betty helps herself to two more, eating as quickly as possible because the first two weren’t enough and it feels so good to just eat, to give into her body’s demands.

Veronica keeps the champagne flowing and Betty doesn’t realize just how drunk she is until she gets up to take a picture of Kevin and Josie sprawled across the banquette and the walls spin so fast that she almost falls over, pressing one hand against her forehead as she catches her balance.

“Oh, wow,” she giggles. “Guys, I think I’m, yeah, I’m really drunk.”

“Me too honey,” Josie drawls.

“What time is it?” Kevin asks.

Veronica checks her phone and lets out a surprised laugh. “Almost midnight.”

“Midnight?” Betty screeches.

“It’s fine.” Josie waves a lazy hand at Betty. “Laurie doesn’t give a shit.”

Betty sinks back down next to Veronica. “I’m really drunk.”

Veronica pats her thigh and Betty realizes Veronica’s drunk too, her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are dark shining gemstones that flash amber when the lights hit. “Yes Betty, you said that.”

“My mom’s gonna kill me,” Betty whispers.

“She’s never gonna know,” Kevin stage whispers back. “Besides, it’s not like Alice Cooper was a golden girl in her youth.”

He flicks his tongue at her and Betty reaches across Veronica to pinch him. “Don’t talk about my mom like that, ew!”

“Our parents are fucking,” Josie volunteers. “They think we don’t know.”

“What?” Veronica exclaims.

“We swung by my house before rehearsal the other week and we… heard them. Upstairs.” Kevin shudders. “There were _sounds_.”

“How did you know it was your mom?” Betty asks Josie in drunken fascination.

Josie shrugs. “Her car was in the driveway.”

“And he was shouting her name,” Kevin mutters.

“Oh my god!” Veronica shrieks. “Stop. I can’t.”

Betty dissolves into hysterical laughter. “Adults are so stupid. They think they know better than us and look at them. Idiots!”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Kevin exclaims.

The two of them laugh until they cry while Josie and Veronica finish their champagne. “I’m gonna call a car,” Veronica announces.

She orders one on her phone and pulls her wallet out of her bag. Betty watches in amazement as Veronica peels off five crisp hundred dollar bills from a stack of cash and places them in the center of the table. “Okay, everyone ready to go?”

Veronica holds Betty’s hand on their way through the club so she doesn’t fall over, Betty’s ankles and knees and hips moving loosely like she’s lost control over her joints. She barely notices Veronica saying goodbye to the girl who sat them, the doorman, taking a huge breath of cold air when they go outside.

“C’mon, Betty,” Veronica says gently. “The car’s this way.”

Betty allows herself to be dragged across the sidewalk where another dark SUV is waiting at the curb like it’s been summoned by magic, a mere three minutes after Veronica requested it. Veronica confirms that it's their ride with the driver and the four of them pile into the backseat; Betty ends up squished between Veronica and Kevin with her half-sitting on Veronica’s lap so she can look out the window.

She can feel something in her bag buzzing and when she pulls her phone out she has a text from Jughead: _Back on campus. You guys still up?_

She starts to text him back but her fingers are numb and she can’t get them to stay still, they skate across the screen and she can’t get them to make words, she accidentally taps a bunch of emojis and tries to delete them but hits send instead and she’s too tired to try again; she’ll just have to explain her nonsensical text to him in the morning. She puts her phone back into her bag and leans her head on Veronica’ shoulder, inhaling her perfume and the faint sticky-sweet smell of champagne.

“You tired?” Veronica murmurs.

Betty snuggles against her, wishing she was warm like Veronica instead of always, always, cold. “A little.”

Veronica strokes her fingers through Betty’s hair. “Close your eyes,” she says softly. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“Okay.” Betty shuts her eyes and lets the motion of the car and the repetitive movements of Veronica’s fingers running through her hair lull her to sleep.


	15. Nine of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for eating disorder related content.

Betty wakes up hurting all over. Her head is pounding, her throat burns, and her legs ache from wearing heels all night. Her mouth tastes awful and she winces when she remembers getting rid of everything she ate last night before she went to sleep, quietly vomiting in the bathroom with the sink running after Veronica passed out. She manages to roll a little to one side and open her eyes, wincing at the sliver of sunlight coming in through the window between the crack in the curtains.

Veronica’s face down on top of her covers wearing nothing but a flesh colored thong, one arm dangling over the edge of the bed. She looks like a dead body, naked limbs askew, like someone dumped her on her bed and left her there. Betty stares at the dark hair falling gently across Veronica’s shoulders, the smooth expanse of her muscled back ( _I can see all the bones in your back, Veronica had whispered_ ), the curve of one hip.

Betty barely realizes that she’s holding her breath, watching Veronica like she’s a body in a dirt grave and Betty swears for a moment that she can taste it, the dirt and the rain and the slick coppery blood.

“Veronica,” Betty whispers.

A muffled breath, the slightest rise of her upper back.

“Veronica.” A bit louder this time, wincing at the sound of her own voice.

Veronica groans into her pillow. “What?”

She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

She’s alive and Betty’s the one that feels like death has kissed her cheek with cool lips and left her freezing all over. Her empty stomach is twisted up, her throat is raw, and it hurts everywhere, and Betty is used to hurting but this is a different kind of pain, the barest of stimuli enough to trigger it.

Betty licks her cracked lips. “I can’t move.”

Veronica manages to turn her head to the side and blinks hazy eyes at Betty. “You hungover, too?”

“Yeah.”

Veronica gives her a lazy smile. “Last night was crazy.”

“I told you I shouldn’t have had so much to drink,” Betty grumbles, reaching for her phone.

Veronica stretches a little. “Oh come on, you had fun. You need to loosen up more, it’s good for you!”

“My body disagrees with you right now.” When Betty unlocks her phone she has three unread texts from Jughead and when she opens up their thread his unread texts sit below a string of emojis she doesn’t remember sending:

_Am I supposed to be able to understand this?_

_Betts, are you okay?_

_Can you call me when you’re sober or whatever?_

“Fuck,” she groans, dropping her phone onto the mattress.

Veronica rubs her eyes, last night's eyeliner smudging even more. “What?”

“Jughead’s mad at me.”

“Huh?”

“I have like three texts from him.”

“Why does that mean he’s mad at you?”

“I was so fucked up I didn’t text him back.”

“So? He’ll understand, he’s all like, googly eyed around you anyway.”

Betty stares at her. “What?”

Veronica yawns. “He’s always like, looking at you like you’re some goddess deigning to share space with him.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

Veronica laughs. “Girl, you are blind.”

Betty moans. “I’m too hungover for this.”

“Poor baby. You want some water?”

Betty pouts. “Yes, please.”

Veronica rolls out of bed and stumbles over to her closet, grabs a tee shirt and yanks it on without bothering to put on a bra and goes into the bathroom. She comes out a moment later holding two big plastic tumblers filled with water from the sink and carries them over to Betty. Veronica climbs onto her bed, holding the cups high so she doesn’t spill, and crawls around her so she can wiggle into the space between Betty and the wall.

“Here, sit up,” Veronica coaxes. 

Betty manages to push herself up so she can lean against the headboard and takes the cup from Veronica. “Thank you.”

“Hey, don’t worry, I got your back girl.”

Betty takes a sip of water, glorious and cool as it slides down her throat. “Are you visiting your dad today?” 

Veronica shakes her head. “There’s some charity thing in the city tonight my mom wants to take me to, I’m not getting picked up today until after lunch. We’re gonna sleep at her place downtown tonight and visit my dad tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Betty’s heart sinks a little at the idea of having to spend Saturday night without Veronica.

“Why? Are you gonna miss me?” Veronica gives her a mischievous smile like she knows exactly what Betty’s feeling.

“Shut up,” Betty protests weakly, but she snuggles closer to Veronica so she can put her head on Veronica’s shoulder.

Veronica takes a sip of water and reaches down to play with Betty’s hair. “It’s okay. I’ll miss you too.”

*

Archie calls Veronica a few hours later when they’re curled up in Betty’s bed watching bad reality tv on Veronica’s laptop. They skipped breakfast, both of them too hungover to want to leave their dorm room when they could stay in bed with the curtains shut instead, sipping water and laughing at the antics of the people on the screen.

Veronica stretches over Betty to put her cup on the nightstand as she answers the phone. “Good morning, Archie… yeah, we were not in the mood for that after a night out… hang on, I’ll ask.”

Veronica turns to Betty. “Do you want to go to Pop’s with Archie and Jughead?”

Betty doesn’t really want to go anywhere but she doesn’t want to be alone all day either. “Do you?”

“I think I could handle some hash browns. And coffee.”

“Okay.” Betty rubs her eyes. “I’ll go if you want to.”

Veronica tells Archie they’ll meet him and Jughead in the courtyard in half an hour and hangs up. “It’ll feel good once we do it,” she tells Betty. “A little fresh air and caffeine is good for a hangover.”

“I swear, this is the only thing I’m doing today,” Betty proclaims as she drags herself out of bed.

They both take quick showers and brush their hair out in front of the mirror; Veronica leaves hers down to air dry and Betty ties hers back in her usual ponytail. Her face looks terrible in the mirror, her eyes are bloodshot and the skin underneath them looks bruised. Betty puts on extra concealer and dabs silvery highlighter around the corners of her eyes, adds dark brown mascara and blush to fix her pallor. 

Betty can tell Veronica doesn’t feel good when they get dressed because she puts on an oversized black tee shirt (Gucci, the logo embroidered over the chest in sequins, but still) over a pair of shiny gold bike shorts that hit mid thigh. Betty pulls a grey crew neck Riverdale Prep sweatshirt over her head and steps into a pair of denim shorts before putting on her Keds. They both throw their phones and wallets into their bags and Betty puts on her sunglasses before locking their dorm room.

Archie and Jughead are in the courtyard dressed in street clothes when she and Veronica go outside, wearing jeans and tee shirts in the mild September sun. Veronica perks up when she sees Archie, pushing her tortoiseshell patterned sunglasses up into her hair as she smiles and waves to him, pulling Betty along where the guys are waiting by a maple tree.

“Hi,” Veronica coos at Archie, letting go of Betty so she can lean in and kiss Archie’s cheek. “Congrats on your game.”

“Thanks.” He gives her a casual, one-armed hug and glances at Betty over Veronica’s shoulder. “How was your night?”

“So much fun!” Veronica chirps. “Right, Betty?”

“Yeah.” Betty breathes through the pounding in her temples and hopes she doesn’t dry heave.

“Ready to go?” Archie slings an arm over Veronica’s shoulders.

They head down the path that winds through campus, and of course it’s an absolutely perfect day, mild and sunny and so bright it makes her eyes hurt. Betty falls in step next to Jughead a few paces behind Archie and Veronica, wincing at how loud everything is right now - the birds, the scrape of her shoes against the pavement, the pitch of Veronica’s voice as she chatters along next to Archie. She wishes she were back in her dorm room, where it was dark and cool, where Veronica cuddled with Betty under the blanket as they watched tv, her arm around Betty’s shoulders, fingers in her hair, their legs all tangled up.

“Hey,” Betty says quietly to Jughead. “I’m sorry I didn’t text you back last night.”

“Was everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just ended up drinking like, way more than I thought I would.”

“Oh.” His voice sounds kind of hard and Betty cringes. Not being there for him because she was drunk is something she’d never want to do, especially considering what his father put him through.

Just when she thinks she can’t fuck up even more, she somehow finds a way.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes feebly.

“Whatever.”

“Jug” -

“It’s fine Cooper, you’re allowed to have fun.”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” she whispers.

He sighs and to her surprise he reaches down and squeezes her hand, just for a moment, before pulling away. “I’m not mad.”

She forces herself to keep up with him even though her legs hurt and she’s tired and she’d rather go lie down in the grass and take a nap than walk to Pop’s. “Okay.”

“Did you have a good time at least?”

“It was okay,” she mumbles. “What’d you do?”

“Rode my bike around with Toni. Went to a movie.”

“That sounds more like my speed right now, honestly.”

“Oh what, like you didn’t like having a taste of living the highlife?” He glares vaguely at Veronica’s back.

“It was fun, it was just, like… a lot.”

“We could watch a movie tonight,” he says quietly. “If you want to.”

She glances sideways at him. “Yeah?”

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“Okay.” She kind of wishes that he’d hold her hand again. It was nice, having something ground her for a second. “That’d be nice.”

Archie swipes his ID at the front gates and they all cross the street, the midday sun shining down on them and making Betty’s headache go a little sharper, even with sunglasses on. She sighs to herself and Jughead taps her wrist, head tilting in her direction. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“I have a headache,” Betty admits.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?”

“No.” Her empty stomach clenches painfully. “I had water though.”

“Okay,” he says, the worry in his voice apparent. “We'll get you something at Pop’s.”

“Okay,” she agrees, because she knows she can’t get away with not eating anyway, not when he’s using that tone of voice.

By the time they get to Pop’s Betty feels like she might pass out, her knees weak as she follows Veronica inside. They manage to snag an open booth by the windows and Betty slides in first so she can rest the side of her head against the cool glass of the window as Jughead slides in next to her.

“Can we get some coffee?” Veronica asks as she climbs in across from Betty. “I need coffee _desperately_.”

Archie waves at Pop and three minutes later they all have ice waters and cups of steaming coffee in front of them. Betty stirs in a few packets of Splenda and cradles her mug with shaking hands. She sips it slowly, waiting for the bitterness to rise back up her throat but it goes down okay so she leans back a little, zoning out as she slowly drinks. The caffeine helps a little, or at least knowing it's going into her system, it should help with the headache at least, she hopes.

Pop comes back and takes their order; instead of their usual pancakes Veronica asks for scrambled eggs and hash browns and Betty orders whole wheat toast with a side of fruit. Pop winks as he writes it down and Betty has a feeling she and Veronica are getting a side of pancakes anyway. She presses the insides of her wrists to her water glass, the coldness making everything a little sharper, more present. Veronica asks Archie about the game and he immediately starts talking about it, beginning with getting on the bus yesterday.

Betty settles in for a long story, curling up sideways so she can rest the side of her head against the booth. She drinks her coffee and half-listens, lets Jughead and Veronica do the heavy lifting of responding and asking follow ups. It’s not that she doesn’t care, she’s just so tired and everything hurts and she feels like she really might throw up even though she knows there’s nothing in her system.

She kind of wishes she’d stayed behind now, had told Veronica she didn’t want to go and took a nap instead. Just the idea of having to do that walk back to campus makes her feel exhausted. It isn’t usually a hard walk but moving in any way hurts right now, and she wonders vaguely if she’s getting sick on top of the hangover. Veronica doesn’t feel good either but she isn’t sickly pale and out of breath like Betty.

When the food comes it makes her feel nauseous just smelling it; she looks down at her butter soaked toast and drinks some water to wash down the bile. Across from her Veronica grabs the ketchup and pours it all over her hash browns. Archie and Jughead are both spreading syrup on their pancakes and it’s too much; Betty lets her elbows rest on the table and puts her head in her hands.

“Betts?” Cool fingertips at her neck. “You okay?”

“I don't feel good,” she whispers, wondering if it would sound weird if she asked Jughead to keep his hand on the back of her neck, the pressure oddly comforting.

“How much did you drink last night?” he asks her.

“I don’t know,” she groans, forcing herself to sit up. “A lot.”

“Three cocktails,” Veronica volunteers. “And champagne.”

“The _champagne_ ,” Betty sighs.

“It was good, wasn’t it?” Veronica says dreamily.

“Yeah,” Betty admits. “It was.”

Veronica tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “It isn’t a party without champagne, darling.”

“Jesus Veronica.” Archie looks upset. “You let her drink that much?”

Veronica fixes Archie with a look so icy it makes Betty freeze on his behalf. “Excuse me?”

Archie grits his jaw. “Look at her, she can’t handle a lot of liquor.”

“Archie!” Betty snaps.

“Be quiet,” he snaps back at her. “Eat your food.”

Betty glares at him, she _hates_ when he does this, bosses her around, especially when she feels like shit already. “Make me.”

He levels her with a glare. “I will tell your mother.”

She gapes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

“Hello, Mrs. Cooper?” Archie mimes picking up his phone. “It’s Archie Andrews and I just want to tell you that I am very concerned about Elizabeth’s recent behavior” -

“Archie,” she hisses.

“She just looks terrible, Mrs. Cooper, I really think you should take her to the doctor, she’s drinking a lot and she’s skin and bones” -

“That isn’t funny!” Betty looks helplessly at Archie as she starts to cry. “Is this a joke to you? You know what she would do to me if she knew anything about any of this, and you’re, you’re making _fun_ of me as if I like being this way, like I don’t hate myself for what I did!”

None of them says anything and then Jughead’s hand is back, this time on her shoulder. “No one’s making fun of you, Betty.”

“Yes he was,” she insists tearfully, and scowls at Archie. “You were.”

“Betty.” Archie looks stricken. “I would never tease you about this stuff. I’m just…” He leans his head back for a moment and sighs. “You’re making this really hard, Betty.”

She wipes her eyes with the edge of her hand. “This isn’t about you, I don’t get why you think you have to be involved.”

“Betty,” Jughead says sharply, like she’s said something wrong.

“Fine.” Archie grits his teeth. “That’s what you want, huh? You want me to let you go so you can do all this shit in peace? Then don’t expect me to catch you when you fall!”

“Please stop fighting,” Veronica groans. “This won’t help anyone’s hangover.”

Archie stares Betty down. “One piece of toast. Half the fruit. Deal?”

It’s humiliating but she can tell by the tone of his voice that it’s also definitive, if she says no he really might call her mom and then everything will be fucked.

“Fine.” Steel in her voice, _I don’t give a shit_ teenage attitude. “Whatever.”

They all eat their food in tense silence. Archie and Jughead brood over their pancakes, Veronica devours her hash browns with ferocity, and Betty breaks her toast up into tiny pieces and eats them one at a time, like a bird picking at crumbs. Her cheeks feel hot from getting called out like that and her hands shake as she brings her coffee much up to her lips.

It takes her such a long time just to get through her slice of toast that the rest of them have to wait for her when they’re done while she eats a few pieces of fruit. She keeps her head down and chews furiously, trying not to think. She just has to get this over with and then she can go back to her dorm, take a shower and crawl back into her bed.

When Archie decides she can be done eating, Betty slides out of the booth after Jughead, blinking black spots out of the corners of her vision as she stands up.

“Okay?” Jughead asks.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, and pretends not to notice that he has to steady her with one hand at her waist to get her standing straight.

The sunshine outside of Pop’s is blinding, Betty swallows back a wave of nausea and prays she makes it back to the dorms without getting sick. Her eyes water as she puts her sunglasses on, fingers pressing to her aching temples for a moment. Veronica and Archie are already standing at the edge of the parking lot and Betty takes a tentative step forward, trying to ignore the way the sky tilts when she moves.

“You good?” Jughead asks.

She just has to walk. One foot in front of the other. _C’mon, Cooper, buck up,_ she thinks. 

“Yeah.” She hopes he can’t hear the way her voice shakes. “ Let’s go.”

She follows just behind him, using the back of his head as her focal point. Heat rises up from the blacktop and the sun is beating down on her and her stomach feels weird but she keeps going, even though the space between her and Jughead is getting farther apart, even though she can’t feel her hands, even though her head is pounding, even though she thinks she might throw up, even though -

Even though everything is spinning and then she’s staring up at the sky or maybe the sky is moving and the edges of her vision crumble away and she’s falling through the sky and -

And -

Blackness.

Nothing.


	16. Eight of Swords

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same trigger warnings as the past few chapters apply.

She wakes up.

She wakes up and it’s agony, sensory information that’s scattered and disorganized overlaid by a distorted sound, like she’s underwater. 

Betty opens her eyes and it burns, everything blazing red, like the world is on fire. She shuts them quick, a long moan pulling out of her as a wave of pain rolls through her head and down her neck. There’s nothing else, just pain and fire and tears slide out of the corners of her eyes, she’s in hell, she must be, where else could she be? She’s burning up and she can’t move and the backs of her eyelids burn red red red.

She’s lying on something hard and there’s a weight on her head, something brushing over her forehead - fingers. She doesn’t know where she is and she doesn’t remember how she got here, wherever here is, and she should be afraid but her head hurts too much to feel much more of anything other than pain and all she wants is that blissful oblivion of unconsciousness again.

“Betty.” A familiar voice, low in her ear. “Betty, wake up.”

She dares to open her eyes again, wincing at the glare of the sun and red, red hair - oh.

Archie. 

She must not be dead then. Huh.

“Hey.” He’s looming over her. “She’s waking up.”

Someone is crying, a girl. Over and over again. Betty closes her eyes, her body shaking against the throbbing pain in her head.

“Hey, hey, Betty, come on.” The hand moves down to her sternum and curls into a fist to rub gentle circles over her skin. “You gotta wake up.”

“Oh god.” The crying person wails. “I can’t do this.”

_Me either_ , Betty thinks vaguely.

Archie’s talking to someone else now, a boy, and Betty misses what they say because she starts to gag and she has to turn away from Archie to throw up onto the blacktop.

“Oh god,” the boy - Jughead? Yes, Jughead - says. “That’s a concussion.”

The crying girl, Veronica, of course, it’s Veronica, continues to wail. Archie’s hands are holding Betty by the shoulders; he and Jughead are talking rapidly and her head hurts her head hurts she’s so hot she’s so thirsty it hurts where is she why is she here what’s happening -

“Breathe,” Archie says. “You’re okay, just breathe.”

Veronica starts shrieking about something and the boys talk over her and Betty shakes, everything is too loud and everything hurts and she’s afraid but she doesn’t know why, like something really bad happened but she doesn’t remember what, and the voices reach a fever pitch before Veronica’s crying trails off.

“Betty. Betty, hey, it’s me.” Jughead is near her but she can’t see him, or her eyes are closing again, god, she wishes Archie would let her go back to sleep. “Betty, I’m going to walk Veronica back to campus, Archie is gonna stay here with you, okay?”

_Why?_ Betty tries to ask but her tongue is stuck in her mouth and it hurts, it hurts, and she tries to reach out to him but she can’t, she’s too tired and it hurts, it hurts, what’s happening to her -

“Jesus, she’s completely out of it,” she hears Jughead say to Archie. “Text me later?”

“Of course.” Archie sounds weirdly solemn. 

Veronica is still crying and Betty can vaguely hear her saying something through hiccuping sobs but it’s too hard to understand her so Betty lays there with Archie’s hands on her shoulders so she doesn’t roll over face first into her own puke. Eventually Veronica stops talking and everything gets sort of quiet, Betty can hear the wind and her own ragged, shallow breaths. She licks her dry lips and tries to take a real breath, her throat still raw from last night.

“Ar - Arch,” she manages to whisper.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he says quickly. 

“Wha - what - happened?”

His hands tighten around her. “You passed out in Pop’s parking lot and hit your head.”

She tries to think but all she can remember is blue, blue sky like Jughead’s eyes and the oppressive glare at the sun and the aftertaste of bile. “Don’t… remember.”

“You hit your head, you probably have a concussion. My dad is on his way to pick us up and take you to the ER.”

A wave of fear rushes through her. She can’t go to the hospital, her mother will find out, her mother will kill her and wouldn’t that be ironic, that it would be her and not _him_. She’s going to be in so much trouble and she can’t deal with it, Archie can’t just _make_ her go to the hospital. She has to reason with him, she has to show him that she’s okay, she doesn’t need to go to the ER, she’s just dehydrated or something, she’ll be fine.

Betty scrambles upright and her head explodes. 

She cries out in shock, hands pressing against the sides of her head as she bursts into panicked tears. She’s frozen, her body suddenly rigid with pain, sitting on the blacktop next to Archie and it hurts, it hurts, it hurts -

“Shit!” Archie reaches for her, pulling her hands away so he can hold her still, one hand cupping against the back of her head and the other pressing against her forehead. “Don’t move!”

Betty sobs, fingers scrabbling against the blacktop for something to hold and coming up empty. “It hurts!”

“Well, stop moving,” he chastises. “Hold still.”

“Arch,” she cries. “Please, don’t, please” -

“Hey, hey, stop, you need to calm down, you’re gonna hurt yourself again.”

“I don’t want to go,” she chokes out, her hands reaching up to clutch his forearm.

“Betty…” 

“Please,” she cries. “Archie, please.”

“Betty, you hit your head. You have to go.”

She knows he’s right and she doesn’t have enough energy to fight him, she can’t even move without feeling like her head is on fire, so she just sits there and cries.

When Fred Andrews’ truck pulls into the parking lot she and Archie are still sitting together, his hands holding her head as she sniffs and shivers and tries not to hyperventilate. Archie’s dad parks and gets out, walks right over to them and crouches down, not seeming to care that his foot is two inches away from where Betty threw up.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says to Betty, his voice calm and kind. “Archie, can you get her to the car?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Archie slowly pulls his hands away from Betty’s head and kneels in front of her. “I’m gonna pick you up, I’ll be careful, I promise.”

She whimpers a little but Archie is strong from lifting weights and football practice and he scoops her up easily, making sure her head doesn’t flop around as he picks her up. Fred opens the door to the truck for them and Archie slowly gets Betty into the back before sliding in next to her. He does both of their seatbelts and slips his arm under her neck so she can lean back against it, arranging her body so she’s sitting up next to him.

“Alright, everyone buckled up?” Fred calls out.

“Yeah, Dad,” Archie responds, and reaches over with his right hand to brace it gently against her forehead.

The car goes into reverse but her head doesn’t move because Archie’s holding it for her, and the rest of her body sways along to the motion of the car as Fred executes a three point turn and drives out of the lot but Archie’s hands hold her head steady and she starts crying again, trying to be quiet so she doesn’t completely humiliated herself in front of Mr. Andrews.

“I know,” Archie whispers. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“It’s not,” she whimpers, and dares to turn her head just enough so she can see his face. “It’s not, Arch.”

He looks heartbroken on her behalf. “Betty, I know. But you can be okay.”

“I don't think I’ll ever be okay,” she confesses in a broken whisper.

His eyes darken. “Yes, you will, you can, but… Betty. We can’t help you if you won’t let us.”

Tears spill down her cheeks. “I’m not sure anyone can help me.”

*

When they get to the emergency room Fred parks right outside with his hazard lights on and jumps out of the truck without turning off the engine. He opens the door for them as Archie unbuckles their seatbelts and steps back so Archie can climb out.

“Arch, I’ll take her in, can you park the car?” his dad asks.

“Okay, Dad,” Archie says obediently, and leans into the car to kiss Betty’s forehead. “I’ll see you in there.”

Mr. Andrews slaps Archie’s shoulder and Archie gives Betty one last worried glance before jogging around the truck to get into the driver’s side. His dad leans into the backseat, gently slipping his arm under her knees.

“Okay Betty, I have you, you’re okay, honey,” he says, just like a dad, calm and in control, like he’s going to take care of this for her, and it feels so good, so comfortingly parental, that she bursts into tears.

He picks her up and she wraps her arms around his neck, eyes closed as she cries into his shirt, and pretends that he’s her father and he’s taking her to the ER because he loves her and good dads take care of their daughters when they get hurt, they don’t mock them and encourage them to lean into the pain, they don’t hold guns to their heads, they don’t ask them to kill their best friend, they don’t break their hearts.

Mr. Andrews sets her down in a chair in the ER waiting room, and kneels down to smooth back her hair. “I’m going to go talk to that nurse and get you triaged, okay?”

“Okay,” she breathes, and he gives her an encouraging kind of smile, like, _hang in there_ before walking away to talk to the nurse sitting behind a plate glass window.

Betty stares numbly at the wall, aware that she’s still crying but she can’t really feel it anymore. Her brain seems to keep cycling through panic and dissociation, that frantic burst for air before the wave closes over her head again and she’s sinking down down down where everything is still and quiet. Archie’s dad comes back a few minutes later with a clipboard and starts filling out forms without even talking to Betty first, because he doesn’t have to. Fred Andrews has known Betty her whole life, he’s a walking record of her history. He knows her birthday, her full name, her parents’ names, her address, every injury and illness she’s ever had. 

Archie comes in when Mr. Andrews is copying Betty’s health insurance information down and for the first time she realizes that he’s a mess - his hair is sticking up, the knees of his jeans have a new hole in them, and he’s clutching the keys to the truck so hard his knuckles are turning white. He drops his keys next to a little table by his dad and sits down on Betty’s other side, his knee jiggling up and down. He doesn’t say anything to them, just reaches over to hold her hand.

When the nurse calls out her name a few minutes later Archie and Mr. Andrews both help her stand up. She’s taken to a wheelchair and normally she would be embarrassed but she’s so tired and her head hurts and it feels good to surrender, to let other people take responsibility for her broken body. She’s wheeled to a room with Archie and his dad trailing behind and there’s no conversation about it, the two of them follow her into the room while a different nurse gets Betty onto a hospital bed.

Inquiries are made about her parents and to Betty’s distress Mr. Andrews tells the nurse that Betty’s mother is on her way over. Her blood pressure is taken, her temperature, an awful light is shone in her eyes, which make them stream more tears. Archie sits in a plastic chair by the window, silent, while Mr. Andrews paces back and forth. A doctor comes in and determines almost immediately that she has a concussion and orders a CT scan and a neuro consult.

Betty lets it all happen around her, tunes out the chatter of the nurses and Mr. Andrews asking the doctor rapid fire questions. She gets taken away to get scanned an hour later and she stares blankly at the walls as she’s pushed through the hallway. All around her people are screaming and crying and yelling and running but none of it has anything to do with her, she’s lost all control, has been reduced to a body that has to be carried place to place while every part of her screams in agony on the inside.

She wonders if this is what it feels like for _him_. No freedom, locked up in a place and always being watched, having no say in what happens to you. It must enrage him, to have no control. To be nothing. To be left in a dark place to live out the rest of his life in a cage.

She gets her head scanned and everyone, the nurses, the techs, are very nice, they talk in soft voices and help her move around with gentle hands like Betty is a child and she lets them, sinks into the cocoon of their soothing energy and follows their directions. She has to be reminded to stay awake, blinking rapidly when they take her back out into the blinding fluorescence of the hallway.

When she returns to her room her mother is there, talking with Mr. Andrews in a hushed voice while Archie stares out the window. 

“Oh sweetheart!” Her mother rushes forward to hug her and Betty flinches, instinctively trying to duck her head. Her mother pulls back, her eyes rimmed red and teary. “Oh, Elizabeth. You scared the hell out of me, young lady.”

Betty doesn’t bother responding, and her mother tilts her head at her critically. “Look at you, you’re a mess.”

She makes Betty sit still while she runs a makeup remover wipe under her eyes and brushes specks of dirt from her ponytail like Betty is a little doll that’s been dropped on the ground, like her appearance is embarrassing, unseemly. When she finishes she gives Betty a mint, like she’s being given a treat for letting her mother fawn over her.

The neurologist comes and gives Betty a series of tests while her mother asks a million questions and then the four of them sit around for over an hour waiting for the doctor to come back. When he does he informs them that Betty has a concussion (duh) and that she needs rest (double duh) and that as long as she has someone around to observe her she can go home. Without her opinion being asked it’s determined that Betty will go back to her mother’s house and spend the rest of the weekend there.

Betty mentally checks out after that, overwhelmed by the dread coming over her at spending a few days alone with her mother in that house. She’d rather go back to school, hell, she’d prefer to sleep at Archie’s than sleep in her old bedroom. When she came back from LA she only stayed one night and basically stayed up packing all her stuff for school, sneaking downstairs at four in the morning to start a pot of coffee.

The doctor talks to her mother and Mr. Andrews while Betty zones out and Archie waits in that chair, expression shut down. Betty wonders vaguely if the doctor thinks that Mr. Andrews is her dad, if they look like a family, if he thinks they’re a nice old fashioned nuclear family American dream: father, mother, daughter, son. If only her family could have been like that, normal. It’s nice to pretend again that she has a real dad, a real family, people who care about her, people who will drop everything on a Saturday to rush to her side.

Betty’s too exhausted to cry anymore at how miserable she feels; when she gets discharged she lets a nurse wheel her outside while her mother flips through a stack of papers the doctor gave her. Her mother and Archie’s dad walk to the parking lot to pull their cars around, leaving Betty on a bench with Archie, who’s texting someone on his phone.

“Who are you talking to?” she asks tiredly, desperate for some kind of verbal acknowledgement from him, he hasn’t said anything to her in hours, not since they got here.

“Jughead,” he responds shortly.

“Why?”

He gives her a look like it’s a stupid question. “Seriously?”

“What?”

“Because he cares about you. God Betty, I thought I was supposed to be the dumb one in this friendship.”

“You aren’t dumb,” she protests softly, completely confused.

“You know what I mean.” He puts his phone back in his pocket and sighs. “Sorry, this is… this is hard for me, okay? You really scared us. Veronica was hysterical, Jughead had to walk her back to school because she didn’t want to be alone, that’s how upset she was.”

“Well, I’m so sorry I upset Veronica.”

“What is wrong with you?” Archie looks like he wants to yell at her. “How does it not matter to you that we all care about you?”

She inhales sharply. “I don’t see what that has to do with… this.”

“You’re sick, Betty.” Now Archie sounds pleading. “And you’re not taking care of yourself and I already - I already thought you were going to die once, Betty.”

Her whole body goes cold. “He wouldn’t have killed me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“That’s not the point! I can’t… I’m not going to sit back and watch you die, Betty Cooper. None of us are. So fucking dealing with it.”

Their parents pull up, her mother nearly jumping the curb as she throws the car into park. She gets out and Archie’s dad rushes towards her, coaxing the keys out of her hand as he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Archie,” he calls out. “Mrs. Cooper is a little flustered, how about you drive her and Betty back home and I’ll follow you in the truck?”

Archie blanches. “What?”

“Arch, you okay?” his dad asks.

Archie stares at the car, his face white, and gives Betty a desperate look that throws her back to That Night, her hands clenched around the steering wheel, sobbing along to Archie’s panicked breathing in the backseat.

Betty finds Archie’s hand and squeezes it. “It’s okay. You can say no.”

“I can take the truck,” Archie tells his dad. “If that’s okay.”

“Sure, that’s fine,” Mr. Andrews says. “Can you help Betty get in the car first?”

“I want to go with Archie!” Betty protests.

Her mother sniffs, looking hurt. “Don’t be silly, sweetheart.”

Betty starts to cry again. “I don’t want to go in the car.”

“Elizabeth” -

Archie’s hand holds hers tightly. “Please let me go with Archie, Mom, please,” she begs.

Her mother closes her eyes for a moment and leans back against Mr. Andrews. “Fine,” she snaps, like she’s too upset to care anymore. “We'll meet you at our house. Archibald, please drive carefully.”

“Of course,” Archie promises.

His dad throws Archie the keys to the truck and helps Betty’s mom into the passenger seat before getting into the driver’s side of Betty’s mother’s car. Betty and Archie both sit there, frozen, watching his dad drive the same car her father used to abduct them That Night.

“I asked her to get a new car,” Betty whispers as the car disappears. “She told me it wasn’t financially practical.”

“I think they don’t like… get what it was really like for us,” Archie says hoarsely.

Betty wipes her eyes with the edge of her hand. “Me either.”

They both sit there on the bench for a minute, holding hands, until Archie pulls away to wipe his eyes and unlocks the truck. He goes over to open the door to the passenger side and jogs back to Betty, bends down and scoops her up. He carries her to the car and eases her into the passenger seat, and carefully buckles her seatbelt into place. Betty watches him jog around the other side of the truck to get into the driver’s seat, and he tries to start the engine but his hand is shaking and he misses the ignition twice before he gets the truck started.

“Sorry.” Archie grabs a pair of wayfarers out of one of the cup holders and puts them on, it’s late afternoon now and everything is lit with golden light that hurts her eyes.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs.

“Betty.” Archie sighs and tips his head back against his seat. “Did I… was I… is this my fault?”

Betty gapes at him. “How could any of this be your fault?”

“I… I didn’t… he had a _gun_ Betty” -

“I know,” Betty says quickly. “You did everything you could, Arch. You… it’s my fault you were even there” -

“He would have never taken you if I hadn’t been there in the first place” -

“You don’t know that” -

“I should have saved you!” he shouts, making her startle. “It should have been me! You should have never… you should have never had to…”

Archie breaks off, his chest heaving, hands squeezed into fists in his lap. Betty swallows back tears, walking her left hand out until she brushes his knuckles. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” she whispers. “You’re my best friend, Archie. I love you. I’d do anything for you.”

Archie makes a choking noise and leans across the truck to cup her face in his hands, his forehead softly leaning against hers. “I can’t lose you. None of us can.”

She closes her eyes, tears spilling down her face and over his hands. “Archie.”

“Tell me you understand,” he begs. “Please, Betty.”

“Okay,” she murmurs, and reaches up to lay her hands over his. “Okay.”

He kisses the top of her head and wipes her eyes with his thumb before surreptitiously wiping his cheeks with his tee shirt, checks his mirrors, and pulls out into the street.

*

When they get back to her house their parents are waiting for them on the sidewalk. As soon as Archie parks the truck his dad opens Betty’s door and picks her up so he can carry her inside the house, Archie trailing behind them. Mr. Andrews takes her over to the couch and sets her down gently. The lights are off and her mother quickly descends on her to arrange pillows behind her head and spread a blanket over her. Archie and his dad disappear for a minute and when Archie comes back he kneels on the floor next to her.

“Dad’s taking me back to school,” he says apologetically. “I have practice, Coach wants us to look at the tape of our game yesterday.”

“Okay,” she murmurs.

“Um, Veronica said she had to go to something in the city with her mom tonight and I don’t know what Jughead’s doing, but I think we’ll all plan on seeing each other when we’re all back tomorrow?”

Betty tilts her head around, wondering where her mother went. “If she even lets me go back tomorrow.”

Archie gives her a strange look. “Didn’t you hear what the doctor said? You can go back as long as you start slowly and take breaks to rest. I think your mom already talked to Laurie.”

“Oh.” 

Archie leans forward to hug her. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Okay.” She hugs him back, wishing he could stay here with her and provide a buffer between her and her mother.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” she says tearily, tilting her face up so he can kiss her cheek.

His dad comes in to let Archie know it’s time to go, and he gives Betty a tender smile and tells her to feel better on his way out, Archie following behind him.

Betty sighs to herself and curls tighter into the couch. She can hear her mom puttering around in the kitchen and winces a moment later when the blender runs. A few minutes later her mother comes over to the couch holding a glass filled with something pink, complete with a straw and a little cocktail umbrella.

“I made you a smoothie,” she tells Betty.

Betty thinks about drinking it and tries not to gag. “I’m not hungry.”

“Betty, Archie told me you haven’t eaten all day.” She blinks back tears. “It’ll make you feel better honey.”

Betty reluctantly takes the glass from her. “Why are you being like this?”

Her mother sits on the arm of the couch and starts to run her fingers through Betty’s hair. “Like what?”

“Like… being really nice about everything,” she mumbles. 

Her mother doesn’t say anything and when Betty looks at her mother, she’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” Betty stammers, but her mom shakes her head.

“You’re the only one I have left,” her mother cries, cupping the top of Betty’s head with her hand like it’s something infinitely precious. “I can’t lose you, too.”

Betty sniffs and turns her face into her mother’s side. “Okay, Mom,” she whispers. “I understand. It’s okay.”


	17. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings as usual, mainly eating disorder related content and angst.

Betty’s mother drives her back to school Sunday night, after they’ve eaten dinner together (broccoli, roasted chicken and half a baked potato, sitting in her stomach like a rock). They don’t talk, her mother spent the weekend tiptoeing around Betty like she was something delicate and it was kind of nice for once, to not be constantly picked at. When they pull up in front of the gate her mom turns the hazard lights on and shifts sideways in her seat towards Betty, face shadowed in the dim light.

“You know sweetheart, maybe we should think about you staying at home for the rest of the semester.”

Betty goes rigid. “What?”

“Well clearly you aren’t being supervised in the dorms and after last summer I could understand why people at school might be” -

“That’s what you think is happening?” Betty asks faintly. “You think I’m being bullied? That’s I’m like, acting out or something as a cry for help? Seriously?”

“Well I don’t know honey, you don’t tell me anything!”

Betty gapes at her mother. “Gee Mom, I don’t know, what could have possibly happened to me that I might be having a hard time dealing with?”

Her mother pulls back like Betty has slapped her. “I don’t see what that has to do with what we’re talking about.”

“Oh my god, Mom.” Betty unbuckles her seatbelt and loops the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Just for the record, there’s no way in hell I’m moving out of the dorm. Because there I’m not constantly reminded about that time my dad abducted me and my best friend at gunpoint!”

She’s so worked up that she jumps out of the car and slams the door shut without giving her mom a chance to respond, and makes a break for the front gate. Betty swipes her ID with shaking fingers and goes through the open gate, where Jughead is waiting for her on the other side just like he said he would when she texted him that she was on her way back to school.

He doesn’t even give her a chance to say anything before sweeping her into a tight hug, her face pressed into the side of his neck, arms holding her to him like he’s scared she’ll fall over if he lets go.

“You came,” she mumbles against his skin.

“I said I would,” he replies, and lets her go but only so he can examine her face. “You okay?”

Her eyes fill with tears. “I don’t know.”

He sighs and gives her ponytail an affectionate tug. “C’mon Juliet, we’re picking Archie and Veronica up from the library. No one got anything done yesterday.”

An apology is on the tip of her tongue but then he kisses her forehead as he loops one arm around her shoulders and Betty melts into his side, letting him lead her down the winding path through campus. He doesn’t ask her more questions but his arm is firm around hers and it feels like a relief, to be held close by someone who has no expectations of her, who’s only here because he cares about her, walking under a starlit sky with a boy who always seems to understand what she needs, even if she’s only now realizing it.

Archie and Veronica are waiting for them outside the library entrance and to Betty’s shock Veronica is wearing leggings and a Riverdale prep hoodie Betty thinks is hers, her hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. It makes Betty feel bad, she’s never seen Veronica look this sloppy and Betty knows it must be her fault; yesterday must have really rattled Veronica, just like Archie said. When she sees Betty Veronica drops her bag and runs to her, throwing strong arms around Betty and smothering her face with kisses.

“Ohmygod Betty I was so worried I missed you so much that was the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my life, I swear, I was so scared Betty, don’t you ever do that again!”

Betty hugs Veronica back, overwhelmed, letting Veronica fuss over her. Archie picks Veronica’s bag up for her and walks over to stand next to Jughead, waiting for Veronica to finally calm down before giving Betty a sharp nod and heading back to the dorms without waiting for them.

Betty’s heart crashes down to her stomach but Veronica reaches for her hand and squeezes it. “He's not mad at you, don’t worry. He’s upset though, he hasn’t really said anything since he came back from your house yesterday.”

Betty presses her lips together tightly and glances over at Jughead, who shrugs and reaches for her other hand. “He’ll be okay,” he reassures her.

When they catch up to Archie he’s in the courtyard, leaning wearily against a tree. He hands Veronica her bag and gives her a quick kiss before turning towards Betty and Jughead.

“Can we have a second?” he asks Jughead.

“Yeah sure.” Jughead taps Veronica on the elbow and the two of them head to the other side of the courtyard to give Archie and Betty some privacy.

Archie doesn’t touch her, just shuffles forward with his head hanging a little. “You okay?” he asks stiffly.

“Yeah.”

“Betty.” He gives her a pained expression. “Please don’t lie to me. Not now.”

The tears start to rise again. “What do you want me to tell you?”

“Tell me you’re going to stop.”

She thinks about the food sitting in her stomach, how all she wants is to go inside with Veronica so she can hide in the bathroom and throw up in peace. “I can’t,” she whispers.

“Are you fucking serious,” he says under his breath. “What about yesterday? Did you fucking forget what we talked about in the truck?”

“You don’t get it, okay? I can’t just like, _stop_. I’ve - I’ve got it under control, I promise.”

“Betty, you passed out and gave yourself a concussion.”

“I know that,” she snaps back. “I was dehydrated, it was hot out” -

“That’s bullshit. You’re - you’re _starving_ yourself.”

Betty stiffens at the direct accusation. “You’re being over dramatic.”

His eyes widen. “You came back from LA at least fifteen pounds lighter” -

“Like you know what I weigh” -

“I have eyes! You - you look sick Betty, I’m sorry you don’t want to hear that but it’s true. You mess around with your food half the time instead of eating it, you passed out and you know exactly how that happened, Jesus Betty, what has to happen for you to realize you have a problem?”

“You know what my problem is?” Her voice is icy and sharp in a way Betty doesn’t recognize. “Everyone around me thinks they know what’s best for me. Like they know anything. I know what I’m doing and I don’t need everybody over reacting and treating me like I’m crazy or some pathetic sick person” -

“No one thinks you’re pathetic but Betty, come on, you know that this is bad, this is… Jesus Betty, please don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?”

He fixes her with hard eyes and Betty thinks Veronica must be wrong, he’s clearly mad. “Doing this to yourself isn’t going to make you feel better. It can’t make it go away.”

Betty stumbles back from him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I was there. He did it to me, too.” Archie’s voice gets thick. “And I spent all summer in the garage, when I wasn’t in fucking court, hitting a punching bag until my knuckles bled, wishing it was him. I know what it’s like to think that hurting yourself will make the other kind of hurt go away. But it doesn’t, Betty. You have to know that. I know you know that.”

Betty crosses her arms over her stomach. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

His expression goes bitter. “Yeah, I bet you don’t.”

Archie stalks away towards the boys dorm, leaving her standing alone in the middle of the courtyard. Jughead and Veronica come over and Veronica gently puts her arm around Betty’s shoulder. “Let’s go inside, okay?”

Betty sniffs and looks away from them. “Okay.”

“Hey, I’ll take care of Archie,” Jughead tells her softly. “He’s just… he’s scared, Betty. This is… you know Archie has a hard time when there’s a problem he can’t fix.”

“I’m not broken,” she bites out.

“I know that,” he says quickly. “You know what I mean. He wants to help you and he feels like he can’t. He feels…”

“Powerless,” Veronica finishes for him quietly.

Betty turns her body into Veronica. “Can we go inside, please?”

Veronica exchanges a look with Jughead that Betty can’t interpret, and squeezes Betty’s shoulder. “Sure.”

*

When Betty comes out of the shower, clean and more importantly, empty, Veronica’s sitting on her bed in lacy boy shirts and one of Archie’s tee shirts, staring out the window that faces the back garden. Betty put her pajamas on in the bathroom so she plugs her phone into her charger on the dresser and reaches for the lamp.

“Ready?” she asks Veronica.

Veronica nods and flips her covers back so Betty clicks the lap off and slides into her bed. “Night,” she says softly.

“Goodnight,” Veronica murmurs.

Betty doesn’t fall asleep though, her thoughts consumed by the look on Archie’s face and Jughead’s tender concern, her stomach in knots. She almost doesn’t hear Veronica get out of bed, the floor creaking a little as Veronica climbs into Betty’s bed and slides under the covers next to her.

“Can I sleep with you?” Veronica whispers.

“Sure,” Betty whispers back, head spinning at the sudden physical intrusion of another girl in her bed.

Veronica curls up behind her, wrapping her arm around Betty’s waist, her breath tickling the back of Betty’s neck. “I was so worried about you.”

Betty swallows down the bitter reminder of what she did in the bathroom. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I get it, I just… I don’t want you to be hurting.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“But I’m not making it better, either.”

“Veronica, it’s - it’s not about you.”

“I know, I just… you're my best friend, Betty.”

“You’re my best friend, too.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” Veronica’s voice shakes.

Betty finds Veronica’s hand under the covers and links their fingers together. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

_The gun against her ribs, slick metal in her hands, Archie digging a dirt grave. Her face wet with tears and snot and rain and blood, ears ringing from all the screaming._

“Promise,” Betty whispers.

Veronica snuggles closer to her, like she’s trying to fill up all the space around Betty with her body. “I love you, Betty.”

Betty runs her thumb across the back of Veronica’s hand. “I love you, too.”

*

In the morning Veronica is the one who makes sure they get up in time, marching Betty through the courtyard to the dining hall like she thinks Betty is going to try and bail on breakfast. She doesn’t even let Betty get in line with her, sending Betty over to their table with only her coffee. Betty must look panicked because Veronica gives her a reassuring smile and _pats her on the ass_ , which makes Reggie Mantle hoot at them from across the room.

Betty blushes furiously and rushes over to her table, head down, relieved when Kevin shows up a minute later with his tray. He drops into the chair to Betty’s left and to her relief immediately begins talking, telling Betty everything that happened Saturday night (drinking in Cheryl and Toni’s room, strip twister) while she sips her coffee and makes appropriate reaction noises.

When Veronica comes back she brings Jughead and Archie with her, flanking her on either side like bodyguards. She sits down next to Betty and casually places a yogurt parfait in front of her. The guys don’t say anything, just plop down in the remaining open chairs and start devouring their pancakes. Next to her Veronica is eating a bowl of oatmeal topped with fresh blueberries, not even watching Betty to see if she’s eating, and Betty wonders what kind of test this is.

She unwraps the plastic spoon and uses it to examine the parfait - vanilla yogurt, strawberries, banana, and an annoying amount of granola. She wonders what would happen if she refused it on principle. There’s a small part of her that wants to see it, wants to know how far she can push her friends until they push back but Betty knows that’s just _your darkness talking to you, Betty, your darkness knows you better than your own heart, it’s in your DNA baby, just like Daddy_ -

Betty jumps involuntarily, her fingers clenching around her spoon, and she accidentally upends the entire thing into her lap.

She sits there frozen, her mouth opening in shock as she looks at the mess, and the entire table goes quiet for a moment before Veronica jumps up and grabs a stack on napkins from the center of the table.

“Oh my god, Betty,” she says faintly, scooping up a pile of yogurt covered fruit from Betty’s thighs. “You cannot wear this to class.”

“It’s fine, it’s okay.” Betty pushes Veronica’s hands away, refusing to look at Jughead or Archie. “I’m gonna go change, if I hurry I won’t be late to class.”

“But Betty,” Veronica starts, but Betty is already running away, backpack dangling off one shoulder as she hurries out of the dining hall.

She rushes through the courtyard to her dorm and runs upstairs to her room. Betty walks right to the bathroom and unzips her skirt, steps out of it and dumps it on the floor of the shower. Her thighs are sticky, flecks of granola sticking to them and it makes her gag as she gets a wet washcloth and scrubs herself clean. She wants to take a shower but she doesn’t have time so she rinses off her skirt and hangs it over the shower. She puts on a clean skirt from her closet and makes sure her socks didn’t get any food on them before tying her oxfords and checking herself in the mirror for any stray spots of yogurts.

When she goes back outside Jughead is waiting for her, holding his coffee in one hand and a protein shake in the other. “Please just take it,” he says before she can get upset or protest. “Archie might actually kill me if you don’t drink this.”

“Archie’s not in charge of me,” she mutters like a five year old, snatching the bottle from him.

“Archie’s the only thing standing between you and Burble,” Jughead reminds her. “C’mon Cooper, you’re smarter than this.”

Betty pops the cap open. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jughead’s mouthy twists. “If you want us to all act like what happened this weekend was a fluke then you gotta at least pretend you’re gonna stop whatever the hell it is you’re doing.”

“Jug,” she whispers.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He takes a sip of his coffee, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Look, I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk about this with you, or not, but - you’re not fooling any of us, okay?”

“Okay,” she says faintly.

“Betts.” His voice sounds strained. “How long are you gonna make me sit here and watch you hurt yourself?”

She blinks back the sudden sting of tears. “I’m not making you do anything.”

He sighs heavily and holds one arm out to her, and after a moment she steps close enough to allow him to put his arm around her shoulders. “C’mon Cooper, we’re gonna be late.”

Betty takes a sip of the protein drink, it’s thick and sweet and she hates that she wants to chug it all down, it makes her want to throw it into the nearest trash can just to get it away from her but then Jughead gently clinks his coffee cup against the bottle, tossing her a little wink, and Betty has no choice but to keep drinking.


	18. Five of Wands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the updates have been so slow, I’ve been very stressed with life in general and having 3 WIP’s up here is a lot, but I’m still here! This chapter is a bit of a short one but I’m going to try to get some longer chapters posted on all my Riverdale fics over the next few weeks :)

By Friday night Betty is crawling out of her skin.

She’s spent the week under observation; between Jughead, Veronica and Archie she’s almost never alone anymore. Someone is always there to surreptitiously watch her eat, time how long she’s in the bathroom, monitor her activities. It makes her feel like a prisoner, her free will taken away, and then she thinks about _him_ and it’s almost funny, in a fucked up kind of way, that no matter how hard she tries to distance herself from her father their lives seem to move in parallel directions.

Maybe it’s written in her DNA, her fate. Maybe there’s no point in even pretending to fight it, maybe she’s programmed to be this way: dark, obsessive, occasionally violent (although at least she directs her violence at herself and not other people, not yet, anyway). 

(And the cat, but the cat doesn’t count, he made her do it, it wasn’t her fault).

The same way it wasn’t her fault that she drove them where he directed That Night, or watched Archie dig himself a dirt grave, or took the shovel and -

He made her do it. That’s the point.

He made her. He made her. He made her.

Because that’s what he’d been trying to do the whole time. Make his daughter in his own image, mold her, send her tripping onto a dark path from which there is no redemption. 

The Bulldogs have a home game tonight that Betty cannot skip but she isn’t thinking about that, she’s sitting on her bed thinking about her father, how everything comes back to him because before anything else Betty is his, and the fact that he’s behind bars now doesn’t change that.

Everything she is, everything that’s left of her, the parts of her that didn’t die That Night, have been shaped by what he did.

It’s a feeling so bad she doesn’t know how to describe it, and that’s why Archie doesn’t understand. Yes, he was scared, he was traumatized by That Night, he went through something horrific. 

But Archie survived, and then it was over. He testified, her father was put away, and that was the end of it, for him. He doesn’t see her father’s face every time he looks in the mirror, he doesn’t live with the knowledge that he was created by a monster.

If anything, Archie comes from angels, given his parents, the kind of people they are. He isn’t the child of a woman who was a former Serpent and a man who went on a murder spree.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re the worst person alive, simply because of who you come from. That there’s a darkness in you that goes all the way down to the DNA, a body marked from birth.

And the only thing, the only thing that works, that makes her forget about that feeling, is not eating. And her friends are taking that away from her.

She tries to direct her mental energy towards something else, thinking about the exercise she needs to get to burn off the calories from the spaghetti and meatballs she ate for dinner under Veronica’s gaze, fingers pinching at the flesh high up on her thigh, under her skirt, where no one could see it. She’ll have marks later but she doesn’t care about that, she deserves it, to punish her body, swallowing her meal down like it isn’t revolting her to do it.

“Betty.” Veronica is standing in the bathroom doorway, her hair brushed up into a high ponytail and tied off with a blue bow. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Betty murmurs, and slides off her bed. “Is that what you’re wearing?”

Veronica’s tucked the front of Archie’s jersey into the waistband of her designer skinny jeans, her height boosted by black leather ankle boots. “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t know.” Betty’s been exhausted and stressed all week, she doesn’t have the energy to pull together an outfit. “Are you done in the bathroom?”

“Yeah.” Veronica’s eyes narrow a little. “Why?”

Betty resists rolling her eyes. “Because I have a full bladder and I need to do my hair, is that okay?”

“Don’t be pissy, it gives you wrinkles.” Veronica smirks a little but she moves aside so Betty can go into the bathroom.

She locks the door and leans against it. She can’t focus on a full stomach, it’s going to bother her all night, and she won’t have a chance to deal with it later. But Betty’s half sure Veronica has her ear plastered to the door and if Betty lets the faucet run for more than ten seconds Veronica will guess what she’s doing and probably kick the door down.

Betty opens up her music app, turns the volume all the way up, and places her phone down on the floor with the speaker against the wall to slightly amplify the sound. She takes off her uniform, strips down to her underwear and makes her way over to the toilet. She only has a few minutes before Veronica gets suspicious, but to her relief everything comes up easily, the blaring music covering up the noises she makes.

Betty flushes and washes her hands, blows her nose, swishes with mouthwash and spits into the sink. She quickly lines the rims of her watery eyes with white liner to cover up the redness, rubs balm over her cracked lips and applies shimmery pink gloss. She clips a blue bow into the front of her ponytail and applies tiny stick-on crystals to the corners of her eyes, above the arch of her eyebrows, and down her cheeks.

She comes out of the bathroom in her underwear and quickly goes to her closet so she can get dressed before Veronica can give her a hard time about what she looks like. The smaller she gets the more protective Betty feels towards her body, her sharp frame, her soft bruisable flesh. She doesn’t like the hot sensation she gets all over when she knows Veronica is looking at her, like there’s nowhere to hide from her friend’s sharp gaze.

Betty yanks on a pair of frayed denim shorts, pulls a thin white tank top over her head and digs out her Riverdale Bulldogs sweatshirt. It’s royal blue and spells out ANDREWS in big yellow letters on the back; Betty puts it on carefully so she doesn’t mess up her ponytail and grabs her Keds.

Veronica’s waiting patiently by the door, a quilted leather mini bag dangling off one shoulder. Betty ties her shoes and doesn’t bother with a purse, she slips her keys and student ID into the front pocket of her shorts and clutches her phone.

“Cute,” Veronica says mildly, gesturing at the crystals dotting Betty’s face, and follows her out the door.

Betty isn’t surprised to see Jughead waiting in the garden when they go out the back door. He’s sitting on a bench with Toni next to the rose bushes, wearing jeans and his jacket over a threadbare grey tee shirt, beanie on, sipping something from Toni’s flask. He raises one hand to them in greeting as he passes back the flask, getting up from the bench.

“Well hello, ladies.” Toni stands up next to him, grinning. “Who’s ready for some gold old fashioned American football?”

“I’m ready to pregame,” Veronica answers hopefully.

Toni laughs and holds out the flask. “Here, go ahead.”

Veronica smirks as she takes it. “Dare I ask what’s in here?”

Toni smirks back. “Don’t worry princess, it’s raspberry Smirnoff.”

“Mm, delish.” Veronica takes a healthy sip and hands the flask back.

Toni lifts an eyebrow in Betty’s direction. “You want any, Princess?”

Betty freezes, Veronica and Jughead are watching her carefully and her instincts fail her, she both wants to refuse and partake, unsure what the right decision is.

“Screw it,” she mutters, and reaches out for the flask.

When no one stops her she gulps down a mouthful, eyes watering at the burn. The vodka makes her cough when she swallows it, sharp and cold and just sweet enough to handle.

“Look at you.” Toni grins when she takes her flask back. “Finally up for some fun, Cooper?”

Betty’s cheeks go hot. “I like to have fun,” she mumbles.

“Of course you do.” Veronica loops her arm through Betty’s. “Well, shall we?”

The four of them walk through the campus towards the football field, Betty sticking close to Veronica. The flask gets passed around again surreptitiously while they walk and Betty feels it come on, that rush of heat, the tension in her chest loosening.

She clings to Veronica, warm, steady Veronica, who’s flushed pink and smiling. Betty knows that the only reason she and Jughead let Betty get away with drinking is because they saw her eat dinner right in front of them and she feels a little rush of smugness.

No one knows what she did in the bathroom after and she clings to her secret with vindictive glee. It feels so good to have something that’s just hers, something untouched by her parents, something no one can take from her, no matter what her friends say. 

It’s a strange headspace to be in, where she knows she’s fucking up, she knows she’s really pushing it, but that’s what she _does_. She doesn’t quit, doesn’t waver, she sees things out to the end. She’s Betty Cooper, obsessive, attentive, perfect. 

She doesn’t let anything stop her. 

When they get to the football field it’s packed with students; Betty clutches Veronica’s hand as they push through the crowd behind Jughead and Toni. They have to go up ten steps to find a row that has enough space for them and file in, trying not to step on toes as they push past spectators dressed in royal blue and gold.

Betty sits down between Jughead and Veronica, leaning a little against Jughead as he pulls his notebook out of the inside of his jacket. “Ready for another riveting game of high school football, Cooper?” he asks wryly, raising a playful eyebrow.

She smiles in response, because it’s nice of him, to be normal on her behalf, to not treat her with the same razor sharp attentiveness as Archie and Veronica. He makes her feel like her again, the girl who climbed trees and cheered for Archie at football games and wrote late into the night with Jughead in the Blue and Gold, drank milkshakes at Pop’s with her friends.

The girl who was happy, the girl who believed the lie.

She knows the truth now.

She doesnt come from a nice family, and Riverdale isn’t a nice town. There's blood on her father’s hands, violence and abuse and shame run through their veins, Blossom and Cooper alike.

It’s fucked up, the realization that the only person who might really understand how she feels is Cheryl.

Betty watches her cousin run up and down the sidelines with her Vixens, that red hair flying in the wind like a brilliant flame. It would be easier if she actually _liked_ her cousin, but Cheryl has always been this way - knife sharp, a hothead, vicious, a little cruel. Terrifying.

Maybe things would’ve been different if their families didn’t hate each other. Maybe they would’ve been close, actually liked each other beyond the pull of familial obligation. Maybe in another universe she and Cheryl are like sisters, maybe they spend Christmas together, wear matching knit sweaters, spill secrets and makeup tips. 

Maybe in another universe they’re happy.

Maybe in another universe her father isn’t a monster.

“Betts?”

She jumps at Jughead’s voice, she hadn’t realized he was talking. A quick glance to her left shows Veronica and Toni shoulder to shoulder, hunched over a vape pen. Betty turns back to Jughead, who’s watching her with those eyes, the ones that see everything, and it makes her empty stomach twist.

“Are you okay?” He points to her legs, where she’s jiggling them up and down in an attempt to stay warm.

She could lie, like she usually does, but she’s a little drunk and it’s Jughead and she doesn’t want to be a liar, not with him anyway, right now.

“I’m a little cold,” she admits.

She braces for an admonishment, but he lifts his left arm and wraps it around her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “Better?” he asks.

She takes a deep breath, trying to ground herself into the present: She’s at Archie’s football game with Jughead on one side and Veronica on the other, and she’s safe, and a little drunk, and the wind is making her eyes water and the vodka is a warm fire sparking in her belly and Jughead is running his thumb in circles over her shoulder.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “Better.”


End file.
